


Just Don't Leave Me

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, College AU, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build, Smut, but not really an AU..., like srsly don't read unless you're prepared for slow build, pls help me I can't stop writing about awkward whales, tbh its a good maybe four chapters until they kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 194,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After graduation, Yamazaki Sousuke doesn't expect much from his new life as a college freshman in Tokyo. The plan is simple - inherit his dad's company, and spend the rest of his life hung up over dreams that never came true. Pretty cut and dry.<br/>He didn't anticipate, however, developing an infuriating crush on a certain green-eyed boy named Tachibana Makoto. </p><p>(aka that one College AU that everybody's done before)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, man. I’ve got a girl in here. Can you come back later?” 

Sousuke scowled at the guy, shifting the weight of the cardboard box in his hands. A couple other boxes littered the hallway around his feet, along with his deep teal suitcase and a small TV set. The guy peered at him through a crack in the dorm door, his blonde, curly hair rumpled. From what Sousuke could see, he was shirtless, his shorts hanging loosely on his hips. 

“...You’re my roommate?” Sousuke asked, checking the golden plate on the door again to make sure he had the right dorm. The guy looked him up and down. 

“Yeah. Name’s Fujioka Isao. Are you Yamazaki Sousuke?” 

“That’s me.” 

“Cool. Well, I’m kinda… busy, at the moment. Can you come back later?” Fujioka glanced back into the room, his blonde curls temporarily disappearing. When his face reappeared, Sousuke glared down at him and cocked an eyebrow. 

“I kind of need to move in, man,” he growled, nodding to the boxes at his feet. 

“I totally get it, but if you could just do me a favor and give me, maybe, thirty more minutes. Is that cool? Okay, thanks.” The dorm room door was slammed in Sousuke’s face, and he stumbled slightly, glowering. He sighed and set down the box, slipping his phone out of his pocket. His fingers moving deftly across the glowing screen, he opened a chat with Rin and punched in a message. 

'Sousuke: Just got to the room, and already my roommate’s an ass'

Rin answered almost immediately. 

'Rin: What happened? Is he taking over the room?' 

'Sousuke: No, he’s not even letting me in the room. Apparently he’s busy with a girl and wants me to come back later.'

'Rin: LOL that sucks!!'

'Sousuke: At least one of us is getting laid'

'Rin: True. You should keep this in mind the next time you bring somebody over'

'Sousuke: lol ok'

Sousuke sighed and glanced up and down the hallway. Other freshmen milled and scooted down the small space, shouting at each other as they attempted to maneuver boxes into their new dorms. Loud introductions and welcomes echoed down the hall. Stray boxes, bags, and suitcases littered the peeling carpet, some appearing to be abandoned entirely. A couple of girls shoved past him, turned to mumble an apology, and stopped. They burst into giggles and continued, whispering and glancing back at him. Sousuke rolled his eyes. He honestly didn’t have the energy to deal with tittery girls. 

His phone buzzed again in his hand, and he glanced back down at the chat. 

'Rin: Makoto’s in your building I think. You should go say hi while you're waiting'

'Sousuke: Oh yeah I forgot he goes here'

'Rin: Hold on, I’m gonna message him and ask where his dorm is'

Sousuke set his jaw in irritation. As far as he remembered from much earlier that year, Tachibana Makoto was a nice guy who was always smiling and offering support. He seemed cool, and he and Sousuke were on a first-name basis, but Sousuke really didn’t want to deal with somebody who was all sunshine and sparkles right then. All he wanted to do was unpack his things in silence and fall asleep on his tiny bed, maybe scroll through facebook on his phone. The last thing he needed was somebody blabbering in his ear. His phone buzzed again as Rin messaged him again. 

'Rin: He’s one floor beneath you. What are the chances, huh? I told him your dorm number and he says he’s coming up to say hi.'

Sousuke grudgingly replied. 

'Sousuke: I don’t know, Rin. I don’t think I have the energy to deal with one of your eccentric friends. At this point Im considering just going inside, roommate sex or not'

'Rin: you know Mako’s not like that. Besides, it’ll be good for you to have somebody here that you know. Makoto’s a good guy, at least try to be social'

'Sousuke: fine…'

“Sousuke!” A familiar, friendly voice called through the hullabaloo of the hallway, and Sousuke picked out Makoto’s tan face and chestnut hair further down the corridor. The former-Iwatobi captain waved, and weaved his way easily through the milling freshmen. He didn’t look that different from the last time Sousuke had seen him: messy, olive-brown hair that made it look he’d just rolled out of bed, intelligent green eyes, and a smile so bright it made the sun look like a ball of ice. Sousuke forced himself not to flinch. He’d forgotten how attractive that face was. Part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Makoto’s back was still nosebleed worthy…

“It’s great to see you!” Makoto said, as soon as he picked his way over. He clasped hands with Sousuke, his fingers soft, warm, and thin. Those green eyes, the color of full, glossy leaves in summer, inspected him, alight with a smile. “How was your winter break?” 

“Um, fine,” Sousuke replied.

“I knew we’d be attending the same university, but what are the chances are dorms are so close?” Makoto shook his head, as if the coincidence astounded him. His eyes flickered down to Sousuke’s feet, at the cardboard boxes surrounding him like a wall. “Um, are you still moving in?” 

“Well, sort of. My new roommate is having sex, currently, so I’m waiting.” Sousuke crossed his arms and shrugged. Makoto blinked up at him, a dusty pink rising to his cheeks. 

“A-ah,” was his only reply. Sousuke flinched at his own bluntness. He reminded himself to be a little more careful around Makoto. He wasn’t Rin, after all. There were times in the past that Makoto had seemed down-right terrified of Sousuke. But, at some point, he must’ve realized that Sousuke wasn’t as much of a threat as he seemed. 

To be completely honest with himself, Sousuke was a little intimidated by Makoto. The guy was attractive and outwardly caring and persistent, but there was another layer of him that Sousuke was unsure of. It was the part of Makoto that had been a little terrifying during the festival and survival game. The part of Makoto that sometimes showed when one of his friends was in any sort of uncomfortable situation. The part of Makoto that showed when he was swimming with such ferocity that the water seemed to be acting at the whim of his rough motions. Sousuke wasn’t sure what to make of him anymore. 

“Well, uh, while you’re waiting, do you maybe want to grab some coffee?” Makoto asked, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them. “There’s a great little cafe on the corner.” 

“Sure.” Sousuke shrugged. He turned to the girl across the hall, who was slapping post-it notes on her door. “Hey, do you mind watching my boxes? I’ll be back in maybe fifteen minutes.” 

The girl gave a startled squeak when he addressed her, and she blinked up at him for a moment. Her gaze flickered to Makoto, who’s apologetic smile seemed to lend her some comfort, and gave a tiny nod of confirmation. 

“Thanks.” Sousuke grabbed his jacket from where it had been strewn over a box and slipped it on. He looked to Makoto. “Lead the way.” 

\---000---

The cafe Makoto brought him to was snuggled against two thick buildings, almost appearing to be absorbed into them. It was small and quaint, with tables outside on it’s tiny, gardened patio. A bell above the door tinkled when they entered, and it felt as if Sousuke had stepped into an entirely different world from the university campus they’d been on minutes ago. Warmth and enticing aromas surrounded him like a blanket. The cafe was mostly empty, except for a few older women sitting primly on one of the thick sofas. The entire place screamed comfort and tranquility. Sousuke eyed the cushioned chairs around him, wondering if he would sink into them like he hoped. 

“This place is nice because not a lot of people know about it,” Makoto said, slipping his jacket off of his shoulder and hanging it over one arm. He glanced around shyly. “Well, people know about it, but the service takes so long that not a lot of college students take the time to come here, when they could go to Starbucks.”

“It’s nice,” Sousuke muttered. Quick movement caught his eye, and he noticed something black dart from behind a cluster of chairs. Large blue eyes met his. The owner of said eyes, a slender black cat with a white collar, wove around Makoto’s ankles and mewled loudly. Makoto beamed and picked it up, holding it to his chest. 

“This is Pepper,” he said, scratching the cat behind the ears. His voice hitched to a high, teasing voice as he cuddled the cat. “She belongs to the cafe, and likes to welcome me whenever I visit.” 

“Huh.” Sousuke watched Pepper, feeling a little unsettled by those piercing blue eyes. The cat glared at him and snuggled against Makoto’s t-shirt, slender tail flicking idly. 

“Careful, though. She’ll spill your coffee if she gets the chance,” Makoto said. He touched noses with Pepper fondly, before setting her back down on the carpet. “Do you know what you want? I’ll order for us, and you can choose a place to sit.” 

“Alright. I’ll just have a cappuccino,” Sousuke said with a shrug. Makoto smiled and moved toward the counter, taking his wallet out. Sousuke tensed. 

“Whoa, whoa, you don’t have to pay for me. I got it.” 

“No, it’s my pleasure,” Makoto said, waving Sousuke off, “You’re new, so you’re like a guest. And the host always takes care of the guest.” 

Sousuke scowled. “That’s stupid.” 

Makoto laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, Sousuke. Just pick a place, and I’ll be right there.” 

Sousuke grudgingly shut his mouth and moved to one of the couches, plopping down and folding his arms over his broad chest. He watched the back of Makoto’s head as he ordered. The chestnut, messy strands of the backstroke swimmer’s hair caught the light, turning an almost golden shade. That hair looked as soft as the fluff of a kitten. 

“Mrrow.” Something silky nudged Sousuke’s arm, and he glanced down into the startling blue eyes of the cat Makoto had called Pepper. She slid onto Sousuke’s lap and meowed loudly and indignantly at him. Sousuke scowled at her. 

“What do you want from me?” he growled. Pepper just glared at him, before snuggling into a ball on his crotch and purring loudly. Sousuke wrinkled his nose and scooted her down to his thighs. Pepper did not seem pleased at this, and slid her claws out. They felt like thorns through Sousuke’s jeans. He stifled a very unmanly yelp and swatted her away, growling crude remarks as the cat jumped off of the couch and disappeared beneath a coffee table. A couple of the middle-aged women in the corner looked up at his curses, shooting him annoyed looks, before turning back to their idle chat.

“Is something wrong?” A worried voice made him jump. He looked up to see Makoto approaching him, two steaming mugs in his hands. He set one of them in front of Sousuke and sat at his side, their knees brushing for a sliver of a moment. 

“Nothing. Cats just… don’t particularly like me,” Sousuke replied. He shot a glare at the pair of glowing eyes from beneath the table. Still eyeing him, Pepper slid out and jumped again on the couch to curl up against Makoto’s leg. She purred in satisfaction as Makoto extended a hand to scratch behind her ears and underneath her chin. 

“Well, Pepper’s a bit of a character,” Makoto said with a fond smile. 

“They keep her inside?” 

“It’s not exactly the classiest place… But cats are good for cuddling. I'd call it a cat cafe, but there's only one cat, so...” As if for emphasis, Makoto leaned down to touch noses again with Pepper, squishing her face between his fingers. Pepper purred louder still, even though Sousuke couldn’t imagine how that could be comfortable. Makoto released her and flashed him a warm smile. “I always wanted a cat, but my mom was allergic. Besides, I wouldn’t wish the energy of my siblings on any living creature.” 

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Sousuke said, hoping to keep his mind off of Pepper, who was glaring at him as if he’d hit her entire family with a truck. 

“Yeah, ten-year old twins. They’re a bit of a handful.” Makoto blinked at him and tilted his head, his hair brushing softly against his face. “Do you have any siblings?” 

“I have an older sister,” Sousuke shrugged, “Although, she’s married now, and we don’t talk much. We were never that close.” 

“Aw. I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s fine. She’s a pain in the ass, anyway.” Sousuke smirked. He hadn’t thought of Keiko for a while. The last time they’d seen each other was briefly at Sousuke’s graduation, when she’d shown up for a few minutes to punch him on the shoulder and wish him a good time in Hell, (her nickname for college.) Before he knew it, she was driving off again with her husband, waving a dismissive goodbye out the window. For Keiko, such an encounter was almost overwhelming. 

“Well, this is kind of the beginning of a new chapter in our life,” Makoto said, snapping Sousuke out of his thoughts, “Things change. Maybe you two will grow closer.” 

Sousuke blinked. He allowed himself a small smile, and a little snort. “I doubt it, but I appreciate the sentiment, Makoto.” 

“If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s sentiment,” Makoto replied. He laughed, and Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never heard anything so clear and light. 

The bell on the door behind them chimed, and two girls chattering loudly waltzed into the cafe, purses swinging at their sides. Sousuke couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he saw the familiar cherry-pink lipstick, heavy eyeliner, and skirts that were practically belts. He was much too familiar with these types of girls… Girls that thought they were goddesses that could attract the eye of anybody they passed, as long as their cleavage was somewhat exposed. It was exhausting.

He sipped at his coffee, expecting an encounter soon. How could they avoid it? Especially with Makoto, and his stupidly handsome face that drew the attention of everybody. It was only a matter of moments before the gaze of the two girls snapped onto him. They giggled and waved. Makoto, as clueless as ever, waved back, smiling his trademark smile that made even Sousuke’s heart skip a beat.

“Hi, there.” One of the girls called, flittering her fingers and batting her eyelashes. 

“Hello,” Makoto replied. Pepper seemed to be having a similar reaction to Sousuke, because she glared up at Makoto for a moment before leaping away and disappearing beneath the table. 

“What are you two cuties doing by yourself?” the other girl cooed. She played with a strand of her artificially colored red hair, pursing her lips and sticking out her chest. Sousuke glared at her with all of his will-power, but she seemed to mistake it for a look of interest, and tittered. 

“Do you mind if we sit with you?” the first girl asked. Before Makoto could reply, she squished herself to his side and blinked up at him beseechingly. She bit her bottom lip and looked him up and down with eyes as dead as a shark’s. The other girl squeezed between Makoto and Sousuke, turning her back on Sousuke to look up at Makoto as well. Sousuke scooted as far away from her as the couch would allow. He sipped grudgingly at his coffee, hoping the bitter taste would mask the horrible overdose of perfume coming off of the girls in waves.

Makoto realized too late what was happening. He flushed and looked down at his hands, and the two girls giggled. 

“What’s your name?” one of them, the one with the red hair, asked. 

“I’m, uh… Tachibana Makoto.”

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?” 

“W-well, I’m a guy…” 

The girls tittered again, and one of them clutched at Makoto’s arm, making him jump. Sousuke set his jaw and lowered his mug. It was almost painful seeing Makoto so uncomfortable, and a silent fury was beginning to brew in Sousuke’s chest. These girls knew he wasn’t interested, and were pressing on anyway, like wolves about to make a kill. He felt the sudden urge to push the girls away and wrap Makoto in a protective embrace, but settled on clearing his throat and dropping his voice to as low and threatening as it could go, (which was pretty damn low.)

“We’re gay,” he said. 

For a moment, both Makoto and the girls blinked at him in confusion. Then the faces of the girls took on a look of utter embarrassment, and their hands dropped from Makoto’s arms instantly. They shot to their feet at the same time, cheeks red. Makoto just continued to stare at Sousuke as if he’d seen a ghost. Sousuke took the opportunity to slide over to his side and wrap his arm around him for better effect. Makoto’s shoulders tensed at his touch, but Sousuke ignored the action and continued to look up at the girls expectedly.

“W-we’re so sorry!” one of the girls stammered, her face flushed with embarrassment. 

“Shit, we didn’t…” They looked at each other, before smiling nervously and clutching their purses as they hurried away. One of them called over her shoulder. “Enjoy your coffee!”

Sousuke and Makoto both watched in silence as they scrambled for the door, whispering urgently to each other and casting embarrassed looks over at the two young men. The bell above the door tinkled at their flustered departure. 

Makoto let out a sigh of relief at Sousuke’s side. He glanced up at Sousuke with pink cheeks, his fingers twiddling in his lap. 

“Um… Thanks,” he mumbled. His bright eyes looked away, and he rubbed his neck. “I, uh, guess I’m not very good at voicing what I want to say in those… kind of situations.”

“Does this happen often?” Sousuke asked. He forced himself to retract his arm from Makoto’s warm shoulders, even though he was tempted to let it rest there casually. It felt strangerly natural. Makoto’s ears turned a deeper scarlet beneath his hair. 

“I guess. Usually I just give them a fake phone number and get it over with. I can never really bring myself to say no to anybody.” He glanced up at Sousuke sheepishly. “I never thought of telling them I’m gay, though.” 

“Are you?” Sousuke asked, almost hopefully, before realizing what he was saying. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Makoto replied, giving him a small smile. He looked at his hands. “If I’m completely honest, I don’t really know what I am. Love is love, and I don’t really have a preference, as long as I’m happy.” He winced. “Is there a word for that? I haven’t really thought about it that much, or told anybody, for that matter…” 

Sousuke started. He coughed into his hand, overwhelmed by the weight of how personal the information Makoto had just shared with him was. Makoto seemed to have realized too, and mumbled something under his breath, before burying his face in his hands. 

“I just came out to you. We barely know each other, and I just admitted for the first time that I’m… Shit.” Makoto’s words were muffled from behind his fingers. He peeked up at Sousuke through them, his green eyes shining. “I’m sorry.” 

“H-hey, you’re fine,” Sousuke replied, rubbing his neck and looking away. “I don’t know if it helps, but I haven’t told anybody except for Rin that I’m bisexual. I mean, I always thought it was a given, seeing that I’ve openly dated both guys and girls.” He coughed again, uncomfortable heat rushing through him at the speed of light. “I won’t, like, tell anybody, you know.”

“...T-thanks. Thanks, that means a lot.” Makoto shook his head, and took a flustered sip of coffee. He laughed his nervous laugh and met Sousuke’s gaze. “Well, that was an eventful coffee run. We certainly know more about each other than we bargained for, and now two random girls out there think we’re dating.” 

Sousuke quirked the corner of his mouth up in a smirk. “Yeah.” 

“Do you think your roommate is done by now?” 

“Probably. I’ve only known him for a couple minutes, but he doesn’t exactly seem like the guy to hold a girl’s interest for very long.” 

Makoto laughed anxiously, as if he wasn’t sure he was supposed to be laughing at that. Sousuke smiled at him, surprised to feel the uncomfortable sensation in his stomach begin to ebb away.

“I’ll help you unpack, if you want,” Makoto offered, standing and finishing his coffee. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. If I need any help, I’ll make my roommate do it,” Sousuke replied. He stood himself, and grudgingly put his empty mug in Makoto’s waiting hand to return it to the counter. “Thanks for the coffee. And for… showing me this place. It’s nice.” 

Makoto beamed. “My pleasure.” 

“I’m buying next time, though,” Sousuke said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“N-next time?” Makoto echoed. He blinked those brilliant, ferny eyes at Sousuke, and Sousuke cursed him and his ridiculously attractive face. He was almost tempted to punch him, in hopes of bruising that face and making it less heart-stopping, but the mere thought of hurting Makoto brought immediate discomfort as well. Sousuke’s stomach writhed with irritation. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I owe you, now. There’s no way I’m going to let that hang over my head.” 

“You did help me with those girls…” Makoto pointed out weakly. 

“That’s not the same. Coffee is coffee.” Sousuke said. Makoto studied him for a moment, before supplying a small smile. 

“Alright, then. Do you want to come down again some time? If you’re not busy, that is,” Makoto said, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. 

“Sure. There’s nothing else I’d be doing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another coffee da-er, friend outing...

The next time he saw Makoto was two days later, the day classes started. 

Sousuke was already bored out of his mind. His father had selected the highest business classes he would need to pass in order to succeed him in the family business, and Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never been so disinterested in his life. 

It’s not that the material was hard - Sousuke had always been pretty smart when it came to classwork. He could feel the people around him glancing over his shoulder every now and again to make sure they were caught up, and Sousuke felt a little triumph at that. But the topic itself didn’t appeal to him in the slightest, and, after a couple minutes into the lecture, he found himself taking down notes like a robot, thinking about Rin and swimming and how the guys back at Samezuka were doing… 

Before he knew it, the class was over, and he moved to the next one. And the next one. And the one after that. His interest failed to be captured once. 

The only moment throughout the entire procession of classes that was interesting was a split second when Sousuke and Makoto crossed paths. Makoto had smiled in pleasant surprise and waved to him. He wore a red and black plaid shirt with a tank-top underneath, jeans, and black, thick-rimmed glasses that made his eyes seem only more brilliant. His stupid face… With those stupid glasses… And that entire stupid outfit… Sousuke tried to ignore the skipping of his heart against his ribs. 

He also tried to ignore the gaggle of girls that were following Makoto at a distance.

When he finally retired back to the dorm room, Fujioka was already there. And so were three other guys, taking up both beds, shouting at each other as they played an action video game on Sousuke’s tiny TV set. They didn’t look up when Sousuke entered, and Sousuke only stayed long enough to dump his things against the wall. He stood out in the hallway, annoyance making his fists clench. 

He tried to think of what to do. Anything, to kill time. It was too early to begin studying, and he had zero interest in going out to the quad or to the library, where most students went during their free time.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he slid it out, not surprised to see Rin’s name appear on the screen. Sighing, he opened the chat. 

'Rin: How was your first day?' 

'Sousuke: It sucked. Soooo boring, and now my roommate is taking up the whole damn dorm with his loud friends.'

'Rin: Ugh, that sounds awful. Did you see Mako?'

'Sousuke: Yah, we got coffee a couple days ago.'

'Rin: You should run by his dorm and say hi. He’s messaging me right now and won’t shut up about this cat he likes -_-. I ask him for help with a cat once and suddenly I’m his confidant for anything feline'

Sousuke smiled down at the message. That did sound like Makoto. Although Rin was complaining, however, he doubted his friend was actually that bothered. The guy was such a softie on the inside that he probably ate up anything his friends shared with him, including news about cats. 

'Sousuke: I have nothing better to do. Maybe I will go say hi'

'Rin: Cool. I can have a moment of peace without hearing about some cat named Salt or something'

'Sousuke: It’s Pepper'

'Rin: What??'

'Sousuke: nvm'

Sighing, Sousuke slid his phone back into his back pocket. He walked down the hallway, to the stairwell, and tried to recall Makoto’s dorm number as he went. 

\---000---

When the door opened, Sousuke’s stomach dropped in panic when it wasn’t Makoto looking up at him. Instead, he found himself looking into the dark eyes of a short guy with a shaved head, studded ears, and a nose piercing. His chest was covered in intricate tattoos. The guy was shirtless and only wore grey sweats, and was staring up at Sousuke with such an alarmed look that Sousuke was surprised he didn’t slam the door in his face. 

“Who’re you?” the guy demanded, thick eyebrows coming together. 

“S-sorry, I must have the wrong room,” Sousuke said. He glanced at the door number to check, but the number was the same as the one Makoto had told him the other day. He glanced back at the tattooed guy. “Do you know Tachibana Makoto?” 

The guy relaxed slightly. He bellowed over his shoulder at a volume loud enough to draw the attention of the entire floor. “Tachibana! There’s a guy at the door for you!”

“Don’t shout, Tanaka-kun,” an exhausted, familiar voice sighed from inside. Makoto’s rumpled brown hair and green eyes came into view from behind the tattooed guy’s shoulder. Sousuke swallowed as he took in the former Iwatobi captain, who wore only a pair of torn basketball shorts. His tan, lean chest caught the dull light of the hallway, and his skin and hair looked a little damp, as if he’d just returned from the shower. Shit.

“Sousuke! Hi,” Makoto smiled, scratching the back of his head. 

“You know this dude?” the tattooed guy asked. He regarded Sousuke with narrowed eyes. Sousuke set his jaw and met the glare with folded arms. 

“Uh, this is Yamazaki Sousuke, Tanaka-kun,” Makoto said, “He’s the old friend that I went to coffee with a couple days ago.” 

“Ah. The swimmer one.” The tattooed guy gave a curt nod. He looked Sousuke up and down and smirked. “He’s hot, Tachibana. Good job.” 

Sousuke and Makoto stiffened simultaneously, and Makoto let out a nervous laugh. “I-it’s not like that… Sousuke’s just a friend.” He shot Sousuke an apologetic, flustered look. The tattooed guy, who Makoto had dubbed as ‘Tanaka-kun,’ shrugged. 

“Whatever. I’m going to look at porn, so I’d prefer if you didn’t talk too loudly.”

Makoto’s turned a deeper red, and Sousuke felt his own ears turn pink. He coughed and rubbed his neck. When their gazes met, he tried for a reassuring smile.   
“Sorry about my roommate. He’s a little… Blunt.” Makoto blinked at him. He leaned against the doorframe naturally, which was infuriating. It wasn’t like he was a little more than half-naked and gorgeous, or anything. “What’s up?” 

“Just wanted to say hi. I was bored, so.” Sousuke shrugged. He tried to focus on Makoto’s face, instead of his chest. Since when did he have attention problems when it came to chests? He was a swimmer. He’d seen Makoto shirtless plenty of times. He hadn’t, however, seen the couple of birthmarks on the higher portions of Makoto’s thighs…

“Oh. Well, I’m not doing anything now. We can go get coffee again, if you want,” Makoto offered, smiling, “Maybe you can repay me for last time.” 

Sousuke nodded. “Yeah, alright.” 

“Well, come on in, I’ll put some clothes on,” Makoto waved him in and held the door open. Sousuke took a small step inside, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Makoto’s room wasn’t that different from Sousuke’s. The only visible difference were the walls covered with posters and photos, both with pictures of famous swim and basketball teams, (Makoto’s, Sousuke assumed,) and busty ladies, cars, and bands, (Makoto’s roommate’s,). ‘Tanaka-kun’ had crashed on one of the beds, flipping absently through a magazine and eying Sousuke warily. Makoto stretched his toned arms over his head, before leaning down to select clothes from his drawers. Sousuke, feeling as if he were intruding by watching, looked away. He tried to steer his gaze away from Makoto, as he slipped a white t-shirt over his head, took off his basketball shorts, (momentarily leaving him in nothing besides an old, much too thin pair of boxers,) and tugged on a nice-fitting pair of jeans. Makoto’s tattooed roommate caught Sousuke’s eye and smirked. He bared his teeth and mouthed, ‘Gay,’ at him. Sousuke scowled his best scowl in reply.

“Ready to go?” Makoto asked, grabbing his wallet from his bedside table and slipping it into his pocket. He smiled at Sousuke and motioned for the door. “After you.”

“Don’t bring your wallet,” Makoto’s roommate sighed, flipping a page of his magazine forcefully, “He literally just said he was paying.” 

“O-oh, right.” Makoto let out a nervous laugh and took his wallet back out. He threw it onto his bed. “Don’t steal any of my money, okay?”

“I won’t. Just have a good date, man.” The tattooed guy flashed Sousuke a smirk. “Don’t forget to use protection if the moment arises.” 

“O-okay, we’re leaving now,” Makoto mumbled, pushing Sousuke out of the room and slamming the door behind them. His face turned bright red. “Sorry again…”

“It’s fine. He reminds me of somebody, actually,” Sousuke replied. He tried not to think about what Makoto’s roommate had referred to. Or the birthmarks on Makoto’s thighs. Or how he smelled like limes and freshly applied deodorant...

“Does he remind you of Rin?” Makoto asked. 

“I was thinking more Kisumi, but yeah, they do have some similar qualities.” 

Makoto laughed his charming laugh, and Sousuke’s heart missed a step. He swallowed, confused by the sudden urges to wrap Makoto up in a blanket and feed him marshmallows and chocolate until he fell asleep. Sousuke had a hunch that Makoto slept like an angel.

“What? Is something on my face?” Makoto asked, after a couple of moments of Sousuke staring had passed. Sousuke started, feeling his cheeks pinken in the slightest.

“No, it’s nothing. Let’s just go.”

\---000---

“Seriously? I didn’t know that!” 

“Yeah, Rin had to be taken to the hospital.” 

Makoto covered his mouth with a hand to keep back a snort. “That’s horrible!” 

Sousuke shrugged, smiling. “He deserved it, for thinking he could stick twelve pencils up his nose,” he said. Makoto laughed again, and the sound seemed to fill Sousuke’s entire body with warmth. He felt himself grinning like he hadn’t in a long time. 

He liked making Makoto laugh. When Makoto laughed, the action took over his entire face, scrunching his nose up and turning his cheeks rosy. Sousuke had never seen anybody laugh like that. 

The two sat on the same couch as the day before, steaming mugs in their hands. Pepper had snuggled herself between their legs, purring and leaning heavily against Makoto as he scratched the soft spot of her neck. Somehow the two had gotten on the topic of childhood memories, and Sousuke certainly had a lot to share from elementary school with Rin.

“Sometimes I forget that Rin had all of these experiences without us,” Makoto said, “I mean, of course he did, but it’s just hard for me to imagine. When I think about Rin, I think about Haru and Nagisa. So it’s a little weird to hear stories from… before.” He looked at Sousuke with a small smile. “Have you known each other for a long time?” 

Sousuke shrugged. “Most of our lives, actually. Our parents weren’t that close, but they humored us, considering we clicked almost immediately.” 

“I know what you mean. That’s kind of how Haru and I were. Well, it took a couple of forced play dates to break through that protective layer, but we’ve been best friends since we were tiny.” 

“Tiny?” Sousuke tried to imagine a young Makoto. A small, round-cheeked, droopy-eyed boy with a bright smile and the same scruffy hair that Makoto had now. It was almost too much for Sousuke to comprehend, and it certainly didn’t help that Makoto was blinking up at him with those interested doe eyes. 

“What about you? You probably have some embarrassing childhood stories,” Makoto said, elbowing him softly in the side. 

“Not really,” Sousuke replied, shrugging. 

“Not at all? No wetting the bed, no admitting your undying love to some little girl with pigtails?” 

“Nothing comes to mind.” 

“I don’t believe it,” Makoto said with a smile, “You couldn’t have always been the silent, brooding guy you are now.” 

“I’m not brooding.” Sousuke scowled. Makoto laughed at his expression. 

“You are a little,” he said, scrunching up his nose. “But really? Nothing?” 

“Nothing worth sharing,” Sousuke replied, leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch. He quirked an eyebrow as he raised his mug to his lips. “What about you, Tachibana? Got any childhood stories you’re dying to get off of your chest?” 

“Hm, let me think…” Makoto pinched his chin, studying Sousuke with furrowed brows. A thought lit up his face. “Yeah, there was one time in middle school, Haru and I went on a fieldtrip with our class to the zoo. There was this giant fountain right at the center of the entire area, with giant coi fish and lilypads and things like that. The teacher wasn’t looking, and Haru decided to take the opportunity to jump into the fountain. I tried to stop him, but I tripped, and ended up face first in the water. When I sat back up, a lilypad was on my head, and the entire class was laughing.” Makoto grinned sheepishly. “It’s embarrassing to even remember…” 

Sousuke covered his mouth with a hand and smirked behind it. “That sounds… awful.” 

Makoto nudged his knee with his own. “Don’t laugh at me! Or at least don’t pretend like you’re not!” 

“Sorry.” Sousuke removed his hand, and Makoto smiled in satisfaction. He leaned forward to grab a napkin, and Sousuke let out a soft breath as Makoto’s warmth and scent washed over him. He wanted to kiss that cheek, to brush away that annoying stray piece of hair from Makoto’s eyes. 

....Why didn’t he? He’d never exactly been the most subtle of guys. And he obviously liked Makoto, no matter how much he denied it to himself. The last two nights he’d spent scowling at the ceiling, perplexed with the light feeling that Makoto had somehow awoken in his stomach. It was hardly fair that Makoto was the way he was, so, strictly speaking, Sousuke was nothing more than another victim. He couldn’t help but be a little disgusted with himself. He’d never been one to be attracted to Makoto’s type, but, then again, people like Makoto hardly came with nice muscles and a stroke that could cut through cinder blocks. That was certainly sexy. 

So why bother hiding it? He willed himself to do something, to fill in the last sliver of moment before Makoto straightened again, but his arms felt like lead in his lap. 

Makoto suddenly leaned forward to speak in a lowered voice, and Sousuke’s heart clenched. 

“Those girls in the back are looking at you, you know,” Makoto said, giving a tiny nod to another group of chairs, where a couple of girls sat. When Sousuke looked, they ducked their heads and giggled. Makoto smiled. “They seem much nicer than the girls before.” 

Sousuke shrugged and turned back to his coffee. “They’re probably looking at you.” 

Makoto’s face flushed. “T-they’re totally looking at you! Did you see how they reacted when you glanced at them?” he asked. 

“When we both did.” 

Makoto frowned. “Fine, then. They’re looking at both of us,” he said, cheeks red, “Don’t you want to do something about it? They’re pretty cute.”

“I’ll do something about it if you do,” Sousuke challenged, praying to whatever deity was out there that Makoto wouldn’t. His stomach writhed at the possibility of seeing Makoto flirt with someone. 

“Are you scared?” Makoto asked, his face more concerned than teasing. 

“No. I’m just not interested. Besides, I’m talking to you right now. If I wanted to flirt with people, I’d have come by myself.” 

“Oh.” Makoto blinked at him for a moment, before looking pointedly down at Pepper. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Sousuke replied, “Besides, they’re looking at you to begin with.” 

“Y-you don’t know that!” Makoto protested in a hushed voice. His face was flushed, and Sousuke fought the urge to squish his cheeks and kiss him. Makoto’s mouth looked warm and pleasant, and his face alight with embarrassment was undeniably adorable. He inwardly kicked himself at the thought, and tried to think of something to say to make Makoto feel better. 

“Girls are always looking at you,” Sousuke heard himself say. He winced, instantly regretting the words when Makoto turned his flustered, wide eyes on him. He looked away and took a hurried drink from his mug. “It’s annoying.” 

“Annoying?” 

“Yeah. We can’t go anywhere without people looking at you,” Sousuke said, realizing it was too late to back out now. He glared at his hands. “You and your sunshiny face.” 

“...I have a sunshiny face?” Makoto asked, a tentative smile making dimples in his cheeks. He let out an anxious laugh. Sousuke tried not to glower at him, or listen to the little tap dance his heart was doing. “Nobody’s ever told me that, before.” 

“Forget I said anything,” Sousuke said, looking down at Pepper and trying to suppress the shivers travelling up and down his spine when he felt Makoto’s warm gaze on him. The way that guy could smile was infuriating. Pepper stared back up at him with cold blue eyes, pressing herself harder against Makoto’s leg, and Sousuke was suddenly reminded of Nanase, who’d shot very similar glares his way back in highschool. The cat certainly seemed to have a lot in common with the raven-haired swimmer. Her attachment with Makoto was definitely noteworthy.

“You could probably have a sunshiny face, too, if you tried,” Makoto spoke suddenly, smiling. Sousuke lifted an eyebrow and scowled at him. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah. I’ve seen you laugh. You’ve… got a very nice smile.” Makoto flushed the moment the words left his mouth, and he ducked his head. Sousuke blinked at him. His tap-dancing heart was dancing a little more furiously. Makoto rubbed his neck and looked shyly up. “I mean, you can be intimidating a lot of the time, but when you laugh, it’s… It’s just very pleasing.” 

“Oh. Well, thanks, I guess.” Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never been complimented on his laugh. Much less by Makoto, who was like a smiling guru. 

“Sorry. I made it awkward.” Makoto winced, flashing Sousuke an apologetic look. 

“No, you’re fine,” Sousuke replied. Makoto relaxed a little bit. He took Pepper into his lap and held her, rubbing the top of her head and trailing his hand down her spine, causing her purring to intensify and her back to curl. She swatted Sousuke’s leg with her slender tail and looked up at Makoto innocently when Sousuke scowled at her. 

“How was your first day of classes?” Makoto suddenly asked, breaking the silence. He shifted to face Sousuke, and their knees brushed. Shivers travelled up and down Sousuke’s spine when Makoto didn’t pull away, and seemed unbothered by the tiny bit of physical contact. Sousuke, however, felt as if his body was being dunked in a hot bath at Makoto’s touch. He swallowed and tried to comprehend the question. 

“Uh, fine,” he said, shrugging, “A little slow, but it’ll probably pick up soon.” 

“Rin says you’re taking a lot of classes for a major in business,” Makoto said. He tilted his head and frowned thoughtfully. “Sorry if I’m prying, but you don’t seem like the kind of person interested in business. At least not to me, anyway.” 

“I’m not,” Sousuke confessed, “But my dad’s business needs to be passed down to somebody, so it might as well be me, since I’ve got nothing else to do.” 

“What about your sister?”

“There was a time when everybody thought Keiko would take over, but it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t cut out for it during high school. She got horrible grades, and ran away with her boyfriend the second she turned eighteen. It was really stressful after she left, because everyone was suddenly looking at me with this new responsibility. At the time, though, I had my heart set on Olympic swimming, with Rin.” He smiled softly, his hand moving to his shoulder on instinct. “But that didn’t hold much water.” 

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry.” Makoto’s eyes, kind and considerate, burned into Sousuke. 

“Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of kicked puppy, though,” Sousuke sighed, meeting Makoto’s gaze, “It’s my own fault. Besides, a future in business is much more stable than a career in competitive swimming. If my shoulder hadn’t given out in high school, it probably would’ve eventually. It’s all a matter of when, not why.” 

“But it’ll heal, won’t it?” Makoto pressed, his eyebrows coming together. “You’re not… Scarred for life, right? You’ll be able to swim again?” 

Sousuke shrugged. “Who knows? Surgery is always an option, but with college and finances, I’d have to wait until I finish school and get a stable job. By then it’ll be hard to get back into shape for swimming again. You’re studying to be a coach, right? So you know better than anybody how physically demanding serious swimming can be. It’s not something you regain overnight.” 

“You can always prepare, though,” Makoto pointed out, “Certain regimens would be able to keep you in the proper shape and practice for strokes without actually swimming. As long as you didn’t stress your shoulder too much, of course.” 

“I guess. I don’t know… Lately I haven’t been sticking to any certain regimen. I mostly just do whatever my doctor approves won’t stress my shoulder.” 

Makoto’s face turned down in a new look. A look of determination, the kind of look he gained before a relay. The kind of look that had actually stricken fear in Sousuke at nationals. “I’ll help you, if you want. With all of the stuff I’m learning, it would be great practice.” 

Sousuke blinked. “R-really?” 

“Of course! I want to help you,” Makoto said, a smile taking over his face, “You’re my friend, and I want to swim with you again. Even if we didn’t swim on the same team, and even if we weren’t close in the past, I always respected you and your dream to swim with Rin. It… It would be incredible to help you achieve something like that.”

Sousuke was momentarily at a loss for words. Those brilliant, ferny eyes watched him with determination, insistence, and hope, and he was overwhelmed by the urge to kiss Makoto. To hold his stupidly attractive face in his hands and kiss him like he’d never kissed anyone before, and just get it over with. Maybe if he kissed Makoto, these annoying little longings would go away. Just the realization that anybody would care enough to show him such attention, or offer something so demanding, made Sousuke’s muscles tighten with excitement and affection. His heart skipped around in his chest, banging against his lungs and ribcage like Momo after taking in any form of caffeine. 

“W-wow, um, okay.” He smiled at Makoto, eyebrows coming together. “If you don’t mind, that would be great. It would certainly save me the trouble of gathering the information myself. And someone to push me forward is always good...”

Makoto’s face lit up. He grabbed Sousuke’s hand, and Sousuke’s entire body stiffened at the touch. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Sousuke. I’ll take care of it all. Just you wait, you’ll be swimming with Rin again before you know it.” His eyes flashed with a hopeful look, and he smiled shyly. “And… Maybe we could swim together, again. If you wanted.” 

Sousuke blinked. He was all too aware of the weight of what Makoto was offering. All too aware of how close their faces were, and all too aware of Makoto’s warmth where their knees and hands collided. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”


	3. Chapter 3

Meeting up at the coffee shop slowly became a regular part of Sousuke’s day in the next three months.

After the infuriatingly long, droning lessons every morning, seeing Makoto’s face was like a breath of cool air, after a walk through a humid, heavy rainforest. Makoto and his positive nature never failed to bring the slightest smile to his face, even on the crappiest days. Be it disrespectful professors, boring classes, or his roommate’s downright disgusting antics, spending even a little time with Makoto was like being cleansed from all of the exhausting events from before. 

Makoto was easy to talk to, because he actually wanted to listen. He didn’t interrupt, or chastise, or add anything unnecessary. He just nodded along and supplied advice and sympathies. After growing up with Rin, it was a definite change of pace. Sousuke tried to listen to Makoto as well, and found himself surprisingly interested in the little things Makoto liked to talk about. Like cats, cooking, (even though he sucked at it,) plants, basketball, classes, etc. Sousuke was less interested in listening because the topics actually grabbed at him, but more because he enjoyed listening to Makoto’s voice. And Makoto was so expressive when he spoke. One moment he’d be smiling from ear to ear, and the next he’d be glaring at his coffee with a wrinkled nose. Every word, every slight change of his face, every sigh and piece of laughter, was riveting. Sousuke felt as if he could watch Makoto talk all day. He often wished Makoto was the one teaching his classes. That would definitely make them more interesting. 

With no one else to talk to, face to face, Sousuke found himself relying on Makoto heavily for companionship. He’d never thought of himself as someone to need anybody, but the previous year he’d grown used to having Rin around as someone to talk to and check up on. Makoto was far from filling the void of Rin, however. They were very different people, and Rin was still a major part of Sousuke’s life. But Rin was also in Australia… and Makoto seemed to be opening and filling an entirely different place in Sousuke’s life, and that seemed out of Sousuke’s control. 

Makoto began work on Sousuke’s ‘dream regimen’ almost immediately. His persistence was impressive, bordering on annoying. Draft after draft of diets and workout plans were placed in front of Sousuke for his opinion or confirmation. Sousuke grudgingly read through each and every agenda and tried to supply Makoto with the best answers. He didn’t want Makoto to stress over something so trivial as his workout and diet plans, but Makoto seemed bent over keeping Sousuke in perfect shape. 

“I was captain of a swim team, after all,” he pointed out on one of their coffee runs, “Even though the team was tiny when I was captain, I still helped Gou out with stuff like this a lot. Plus I’m learning so much in my classes now, and this is great practice.” He smiled. “Even if you don’t like it.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it…” Sousuke growled, flipping through the eighteen-page packet Makoto had presented to him about maintaining shoulder flexibility, “It just seems like you’re going overboard. I’m an adult, now, I shouldn’t need you to be doing so much for me.” 

Makoto waved him off. “Sousuke, I want to do this. Not only will it help you, but it’ll help me, too. My professor in anatomy was very impressed when I told her what we’re doing. I’ll also be able to keep myself in shape, too.” He smiled shyly, and glanced away. “Besides, I… I like spending time with you. It’s good to talk and help somebody from home.” 

A rock had lodged itself in Sousuke’s stomach at that. Makoto liked spending time with him. He wanted to help him, and be his friend. Even the idea sparked energy in Sousuke’s chest. 

He’d smiled at Makoto. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.” 

Makoto had blinked at him for a few moments, as if taken by surprise by Sousuke’s grin. His cheeks had flushed suddenly, and he turned away, hair brushing his face at the movement. Sousuke’s fingers twitched. He felt the familiar urge to hold Makoto tight and run his hands through those silky-looking locks. He imagined they were silky, at least. 

“Are you alright?” Sousuke asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“F-fine. Let’s just… keep going.” Makoto had gulped, and taken the packet from Sousuke, diving back into his research. 

\---000---

“Wake up, Sousuke! We’re going jogging!” 

Something hard smacked Sousuke on the back of the head, and he jolted, arms and legs tensing in surprise. He groaned and buried his head deeper into his pillow, rubbing the spot where he’d been hit. His legs, tangled up in his thin blanket and sheets, stretched in an attempt to shake out the pins and needles in his calves.

The hard blow came again, and Sousuke growled, his hands curling into fists. He tore his face out of the warmth of his pillow and glared up at Makoto, who stood over him, rolled-up newspaper poised to swipe at him again. The brunet was dressed in workout clothes, wearing a black tank-top that outlined every curve of his chest, sneakers, and basketball shorts. The same basketball shorts that showed off the birthmarks on his thighs. 

“C’mon, get your lazy butt out of bed. We’re jogging.” Makoto leaned over and tugged at Sousuke’s arm, his hands warm. Sousuke scowled and stuffed his face back into the welcoming embrace of his pillow, hardening his muscles to become heavier. Makoto, still tugging on his arm, whacked him repeatedly with the newspaper. “Sousuke, c’mon! You promised you’d get better at getting up!” 

“He sleeps like a bear,” a voice chimed in. Sousuke turned his head to shoot a glare at Fujioka, who sat on his bed, drinking a soda as he watched. His blonde curls were rumpled and messy from the party he had attended the night before, and he still stank of alcohol and cigarettes, much to Sousuke’s disgust. He hadn’t smelled something so nasty since he’d talked to Keiko's husband last. 

“Sousuke, get up,” Makoto growled, eyebrows drawn together, “Honestly, you’re no better than Haru. At least he can get out of bed, though.” 

“Good for him,” Sousuke grumbled. He attempted to wrench his arm out of Makoto’s grasp, but Makoto only held him tighter. He stumbled against Sousuke’s bed, propping his knee against the mattress to get better leverage. “Makoto, let go. I’m sleeping.” 

“No you’re not. You promised, Sousuke. It’s for the greater good.” 

“I’m sleeping,” Sousuke said more insistently, his voice gruff and muffled from the pillow. With a heave, he yanked his arm away and rolled over. Makoto yelped as he stumbled, his hand grabbing Sousuke’s shoulder to steady himself. Sousuke was too exhausted to feel the usual shivers at that touch. 

“Don’t make me sit on you,” Makoto warned. He shuffled onto the bed and peered down at Sousuke’s face, frowning in determination. “I’ll do it. I’ll sit on you until you get out of bed.” 

“You’re bluffing.” 

“Fine, you leave me no choice,” Makoto sighed. He scooted closer, the mattress squeaking under his weight, and Sousuke let out a pained huff as Makoto sat on his stomach, arms crossed and glaring down at him. Sousuke nudged his knee in an attempt for mercy, his insides feeling like they were being flattened against the uncomfortable, lumpy bed.

“Get off. You’re heavy.” 

“Will you get up?”

“Fine, fine. Hurry and get off, you’re going to make me puke.” 

Makoto hesitated, eying him warily, before easing off of Sousuke’s stomach. Sousuke inhaled sharply and forced himself into a sitting position. He groaned, pretending not to see Makoto’s triumphant smile. He realized with a jolt that he was only wearing a pair of boxers and a ratty t-shirt, and Makoto was sitting less than a centimeter away, his pinky finger brushing Sousuke’s waist. 

“Your hair’s all crazy,” Makoto observed with a fond smile. 

“Yes, that’s what happens to normal people when they do this thing called sleeping. Have you heard of it?” 

Makoto rolled his eyes. “It’s only six,” he said with a sigh. He heaved himself up from Sousuke’s bed and moved over to his drawers, shuffling through them. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“Yeah, get him some clothes,” Fujioka sighed, taking a big swig from his soda can, “He’s making me feel bad with those muscles. You both are, actually.” He squinted at Makoto’s back, which, admittedly, was a masterpiece in itself. “Shit, man. You’re jacked.” 

“U-um, thanks.” Makoto’s cheeks flushed. He threw a bundle at Sousuke, and Sousuke caught it with one hand. Sighing, he pulled the pants Makoto had selected over his legs, and stood to slip on the socks. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. 

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Makoto said, making a point of not looking at Sousuke changing. He hurried out and shut the door behind him. Sousuke smiled slightly, a little surprised. Earlier, when the roles had been reversed, Makoto had changed without hesitation, as if he didn’t care if Sousuke was watching or not. Now, however, when Sousuke was merely slipping on a pair of pants, the poor guy’s face lit up like a traffic light. 

“Dude, you two are so gay for each other it’s almost sad,” Fujioka chortled.

“Shut up or I’ll deck you.”

\---000---

“C’mon, just a little further.” 

“Makoto, we’re going to miss our morning classes.” 

“We said we’d run five kilos, so we’re running five kilos.” 

“I’m tired. I want to go back to sleep. Or eat something. Makoto, I’m starving.” 

“You’re fine. We’ll turn back around when we get to that ice cream store,” Makoto said, his voice coaxing. He jabbed a finger up ahead, to a shop on the corner. Clenching his teeth, Sousuke pushed ahead, using his slightly longer legs to pull in front of Makoto. His chest heaved with each breath. 

Weren’t they supposed to be lightly jogging? This wasn’t jogging. This felt more like a dead sprint. Or was that Sousuke’s exhaustion playing with his mind?

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Makoto, who met his pace easily and gracefully, his long, tan legs working like a well-oiled machine. Sweat was causing his chestnut hair to cling to his forehead, and his own labored breaths met Sousuke’s almost perfectly. Sousuke had always considered himself pretty fast, but Makoto was meeting him without much effort. Maybe it was just their similar heights, or maybe it was because, admittedly, Sousuke had let himself slide during the winter break. He’d have to remind himself to challenge Makoto to a race when he was back in shape. 

They slowed in front of the ice cream shop, both panting. Sousuke bent over and held his knees, closing his eyes as he caught his breath. He felt Makoto’s hand on his back as the other steadied himself, and the contact was like ice on his sweat-beaded skin. 

Unable to help himself, Sousuke glanced up at Makoto, their gazes locking. Those eyes were alight with ferocity and energy, flashing as if filled with green lightning. A smile tugged at Makoto’s lips, and his fingers on Sousuke’s back tensed. 

“I hate stopping. Once I start, I want to keep going until I give out, you know?” he said, glancing down the street ambitiously and slicking his bangs out of his eyes. “It’s like I’m challenging myself. I’ve never been great at running, but it pretty much goes for any sport, swimming included. I guess I get kind of drunk on the exhilaration, especially if it’s with the people I care about. It’s fun.” He flashed Sousuke a confident smile that sent shivers throughout Sousuke like ripples. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

Sousuke sighed, and looked at the ground, Makoto’s words sinking into his mind. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and quiet. 

“I know what you mean,” he said, straightening, “I don’t know about ’fun,’ but once I start, it’s hard for me to stop.” He gave Makoto a sad smile. “That was kind of my problem, back in high school. It got out of my control.” 

Makoto’s breath seemed to catch at that. He looked at Sousuke’s shoulder, at the bulge of the rehabilitation cast beneath Sousuke’s shirt, and the smile on his face faded. His hand still rested on Sousuke’s back, fingers twitching softly against the material of Sousuke’s shirt. It was pressed there, for a moment, before Makoto let it drop, and it hung limply at his side. 

“I…” Makoto began, but paused. He shook his head. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget…” 

Sousuke stiffened. “N-no, you’re fine,” he said. Makoto met his gaze, eyebrows lowered and angled in worry. 

“You’re not hurting, are you? The jog didn’t stress your shoulder?” 

“No, not at all. It’s fine, Makoto. Really.” Sousuke winced at the almost desperate note in his deep voice. He cleared his throat, hoping to regain his normally indifferent tone. “I’m fine.” 

Makoto studied him anxiously, his apple-green eyes shining. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a soft sigh. The cool spring air caused his breath to curl into a small mist, before disappearing. The pale morning light cast shadows across his face, and Sousuke’s throat caught. The sudden urge to take that face in his hands, to kiss those lips softly, to taste his tongue, to lace his fingers in that silky hair… It was almost too much for Sousuke to take. He was exhausted from being away from Makoto, no matter if the distance was a mere couple of feet. 

When was the last time he’d ever felt this way? Sousuke couldn’t recall a time that he’d felt so deprived of someone, like he had just crossed a desert without a single gulp of water. His fists clenched at his sides. He felt as if he were being surrounded on all sides by darkness, and Makoto was a beam of white light in front of him. He needed to touch him, to confirm that Makoto’s skin and mouth were really as soft as they looked. He wanted to prompt warm whispers and sighs from those lips, and hold him tight, murmuring sweet nothings in Makoto’s ear. Making him giggle and purr… 

He jolted out of his thoughts, a little disgusted with himself. Since when was he such a romantic? That was Rin’s thing, wasn’t it?

“Sousuke,” Makoto spoke softly, rubbing his arms as a cool breeze ruffled his hair. He looked up at Sousuke with a shy smile. “Um, would you mind… Would you mind if I looked at your shoulder?” 

Sousuke started. He lifted an eyebrow. “Why?” 

Makoto looked down at his feet with a thoughtful purse of his lips. “After knowing how long you kept the truth from Rin, you can’t really blame me… I can’t help but wonder if you’re telling me it’s fine so you won’t offend me, or something.” 

“You don’t trust me,” Sousuke said, his voice sounding like an echo to himself. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that… No matter what you say, you’re a selfless person. I wouldn’t put it past you to wave off pain if it meant making somebody feel successful.” Makoto met Sousuke’s gaze. “I want to help you, Sousuke. You’re my friend. I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Sousuke forced himself to relax. He studied Makoto’s face with narrowed eyes, and Makoto met his gaze evenly, his mouth set in a pout of persistence. 

Sousuke didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘selfless.’ Nobody had known him that well to throw around such a term except for Rin, and, Rin had never called him that. Rin knew Sousuke too well, and Sousuke had never been one for generosity or sticking his neck out for someone else… Had he? 

“Not here,” he muttered, looking away. 

“So… you’ll let me see it?” 

“If it’s that important to you, sure,” Sousuke replied. He made a point of studying the icecream stand, eyes flickering over the different flavors. 

“Thank you, Sousuke,” Makoto breathed, catching him off guard. He met Makoto’s gaze, his heart thumping a little painfully at the consideration in those eyes. 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushing, “It’s just a shoulder.” 

Makoto laughed at that. “An important shoulder, though,” he pointed out, “It’s the reason I make you jog with me, and wake you up so early.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sousuke replied with a soft smile. Makoto beamed at him, looking satisfied. “You can give your verdict when we get back, I guess. But for now, I’m going to get some icecream. If I don’t eat something soon, my stomach is going to cave in on itself.” 

“No! No icecream!” Makoto protested. He grabbed Sousuke’s wrist and pouted at him. “The regimen, remember? It prohibits the intake of heavily sugared-”

“Shh.” Sousuke interrupted him with a finger to his mouth, as if Makoto was a child. Makoto glowered up at him. He didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. “Will you let me have some if I share with you? I’m starving.” 

“N-no!” Makoto growled, bringing his eyebrows together. “Sousuke, you agreed-” 

“I’ll pay. You can choose the flavor,” Sousuke prompted. He smirked, recalling Makoto’s soft spot for sweet foods. Triumph shot through him as a look of temptation crossed Makoto’s face, and as he eyed the icecream stand warily, his lips pursing in confliction. 

“...Fine. But from this point onward, you’re sticking to the regimen,” Makoto gave in with a sigh, pointing a finger in Sousuke’s face. Sousuke smiled and leaned forward slightly to touch the tip of his nose to the finger. Makoto’s cheeks flushed slightly at that, which was very interesting. Very interesting indeed.

“Deal.” 

“I want chocolate,” Makoto said, retracting his hand and placing it firmly on his hip. 

“Really? Are you sure you don’t want strawberry, or something?” 

Makoto bristled. “You said I could pick, Yamazaki Sousuke!” 

“Fine, fine. Wait here.” Sousuke turned away from him, waving his hand for Makoto to stay put. He joined the line, right behind an older woman and her daughter, and cast Makoto a smile over his shoulder. Makoto returned it tentatively, taking the opportunity to stretch his arms over his head. Sousuke watched the movement in rapture, not immediately noticing when it was his turn to order. He blinked and moved forward, smiling apologetically to the guy behind the counter and requesting a chocolate cone. He accepted it with careful hands, hoping not the break off even a bit. He returned to Makoto and held it out. 

“Here. You can have the first taste,” he offered. Makoto let his arms fall, blinking in pleasure. Sousuke expected him to take it, but Makoto merely leaned forward and ran his tongue over the cold dessert. Sousuke couldn’t suppress a flinch, feeling his face redden slightly. 

“Mmm, that’s really good!” Makoto purred with a smile. He pushed the cone towards Sousuke with a gentle hand. “Try some. I’ve never gotten icecream from this place before. We should come back, inbetween diets.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Sousuke swallowed, before putting his own mouth on the cone, the sweet taste dissolving on his tongue. He tried not to think about the fact that, strictly speaking, he and Makoto were sharing an indirect kiss. Makoto seemed unbothered, and just blinked at him expectantly. 

“Well? Are you satisfied?” he asked. 

“Yeah. It’s good.” 

“Here, let me have more,” Makoto insisted, his fingers curling over Sousuke’s to pull the cone back to his face. Sousuke smiled softly. 

“Well, aren’t you gluttonous, Tachibana?”

Makoto’s only reply was a snort, and a rolling of his eyes. Sousuke’s smile widened at that. He nodded to an open bench, and the two college students moved to sit down beside each other, bare knees brushing. Makoto held the icecream cone back out for Sousuke, who leaned forward to take another slurp. He couldn’t help noticing the rosiness in Makoto’s face as the other watched him, and tried not to let his mind wander to anything that strictly contradicted the guidelines he had set for himself. They sat in comfortable silence, Makoto taking licks and then holding the cone out for Sousuke to partake, and Sousuke sighed. He closed his eyes, wondering if this is what it felt like to date somebody. Well, more specifically, Makoto. 

Damn, they’d make a good couple. It had only been a matter of months since they’d adopted each other as the person they saw the most every day, but Sousuke couldn’t help feeling like he fit so well with Makoto. So naturally.

And Sousuke could hardly ignore the fact that Makoto was stupid hot. Ridiculously so. He fantasized about wrapping his arms around that lean waist from behind, kissing the warm skin of Makoto’s neck, feeling his pulse beneath his breath. He wanted to kiss Makoto, to test if that mouth was really as sweet as it looked. He especially wanted to run his hands through that hair, that hair that looked as soft as a kitten’s fur. He imagined it between his fingers and sighed. 

“Sousuke? Are you alright?” Makoto’s voice snapped Sousuke out of his thoughts, and he jerked up, face flushing. Makoto blinked at him, startled by his reaction. “You okay? You looked a little… glazed.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sousuke replied, shaking his head. 

“Alright, then. Do you wanna head back?” 

“Uh huh. I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Makoto smiled, and stood. He held out a hand to help Sousuke up. “Alright then,” he said with his soft, friendly voice. “Let’s get jogging.” 

\---000---

When they got back to the dorms, students were beginning to mill through the halls, preparing to head off to their morning classes. Sousuke and Makoto wove through the growing crowd, deciding to take the stairs, instead of bothering with the cramped elevator. The trek up the stairway was like climbing out from hell, after the vigorous run home. Makoto had held back to run at Sousuke’s side, assuring Sousuke that he didn’t mind and liked to keep him company, instead of running ahead. Humiliation still clung to Sousuke at falling behind. He reminded himself again to challenge Makoto to a real race when he was in better shape. 

Makoto stopped at his floor, two below Sousuke’s. He studied Sousuke closely, hesitating, before opening his mouth to speak. “So, uh… About your shoulder…” 

“Oh. Oh, right,” Sousuke mumbled, his breath still slightly ragged. He nodded down the hall, to Makoto’s dorm room. “Do you just wanna do it there? That is, if your roommate isn’t home.” 

Makoto shook his head. “Tanaka-kun leaves at seven thirty. We can go to my dorm, if that’s okay with you.” He winced, awkwardness coming off of him in waves. Sousuke smiled slightly. 

“Okay,” he replied, and the two walked down the hall to Makoto’s room. Makoto’s hands fumbled with the keys, and it took longer than expected for the door to click open. Sousuke slipped in first, hearing the door click shut behind him and Makoto coming to stand at his side. Cheeks flushed, Makoto rubbed his arms, and the two stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Sousuke cleared his throat. 

“Alright. One bad shoulder, coming up,” he said, trying to keep his voice light as he slipped his shirt off. He suppressed a shiver as he felt Makoto’s eyes on his chest, his heart pounding a little more furiously. He’d never really been one to be self-conscious about his body, but he was suddenly very aware of how exposed he was to Makoto’s gaze, and Makoto’s gaze alone. Unsure what to do with his shirt, he let it drop, and stood stiffly in front of Makoto, jaw set. 

“It’s… Not nearly as bad as it was at nationals,” Makoto said. He hesitated, before leaning a hand forward to touch the taut skin of Sousuke’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Sousuke forced himself to relax under his contact, and met those green eyes. 

“Yeah. My, uh, doctor says it’s doing well. Strictly speaking, that is.” 

Makoto gave a soft, tender smile. His hand hovered over Sousuke’s shoulder, before resting on it entirely, palm warm and comforting, like the perfectly-fitted sheath of a sword. Sousuke suppressed a sigh of pleasure at his touch. 

“We’re going to fix you,” Makoto whispered, eyes trained determinedly on Sousuke’s collarbone. 

Sousuke snorted, cocking an eyebrow. “Makoto, are you talking to my shoulder?” 

“N-no. I’m talking to… all of you,” Makoto replied. His sharp eyes locked with Sousuke’s. When he spoke again, his voice was hard with insistence. “You’re going to swim again, Yamazaki Sousuke. I’m going to help you fix yourself.” 

Sousuke blinked, a little taken aback by his sharp voice. He smiled down at Makoto softly. “You used my whole name, as if I’m in trouble, or something.” 

Makoto’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry.” He winced. “Got a little caught up in the moment, I guess.” 

Sousuke laughed. He hesitated, his heart thumping, before reaching upward to rest his hand over Makoto’s, and meeting those intelligent, insistent eyes. “Good. I appreciate it. Tachibana Makoto.” 

Makoto returned the smile. His fingers curled slightly against Sousuke’s shoulder, as if it were a precious life force to hold on to. 

“You really think I can swim again?” Sousuke asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Of course I do. What, you think I’m helping you for kicks and giggles?” Makoto asked, quirking an eyebrow and smiling innocently. Sousuke couldn’t help feeling as if that smile wasn’t so innocent, however. Something in his chest was urging him forward, to close the space between them, to place his mouth gently against Makoto’s, like a puzzle piece. He wanted to. Damn, he wanted to. Even in the false, bland light of Makoto’s dorm, Makoto looked positively radiant. The urge to kiss him was like the urge you sometimes get when you’re up high, and feel like you need to jump. Sousuke teetered, unsure what to do with himself and Makoto’s closeness. Just his scent was enough to make Sousuke’s head spin. 

“...Sousuke?” Makoto whispered, his face dangerously close. 

“Hm?” Sousuke inhaled, feeling his heart pound a little faster, a little more furiously. He could practically taste Makoto’s mouth, even though a sliver of distance still existed between them. Makoto blinked up at him through lowered eyelashes, his face pink and radiating heat.

Just a little closer… Not even a footstep… 

Makoto pulled away with a hard sigh. his hand slipping from Sousuke’s shoulder. Sousuke blinked, dazed, and studied Makoto’s face in fuzzy confusion, still drunk on his closeness. Makoto’s cheeks were bright. His gaze fell from Sousuke’s, and he cleared his throat. 

“We should… get ready for class. I don’t want to make you late,” he mumbled. 

Sousuke wanted to object, to beg Makoto to make him late. To kiss him, and just be enveloped in his sweet warmth. But no words came, and all he could do was nod. 

“Thanks for showing me,” Makoto continued, “You’re shoulder, I mean. It… It helps.” 

“Uh huh.” Why didn’t he just do it? Why didn’t he just close the gap between them?

At this point, he was 99.9% that Makoto had wanted to kiss him, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward boners and cuddling ensues.

He dreamed of Makoto that night. 

They were on the beach. A white beach, with sand so soft, it was as if it were nonexistent beneath Sousuke’s feet. The sky was light and blue, dotted with clouds that looked like swirled cotton candy. The water, a pale, caribbean teal, rose and dipped, it’s foam kissing the beach with each tiny wave. On the other side was beautiful green forest, vibrant and alive with the songs of birds and animals. Makoto stood in the center of it all, his cinnamon hair jostled slightly by the warm breeze, his lean, muscled torso shining in the sunlight. He wore legskins, the black kind that he had worn to nationals, with green spiralling around his ankles, knees, and thighs. He looked up when Sousuke approached, and smiled his pretty smile. 

“Hi,” he said, and wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s middle, placing a kiss on Sousuke’s lips. Sousuke kissed him back, strangely unsurprised by this turn of events. But, then again, who ever questions dreams? 

Their kiss became more passionate, and Sousuke’s fingers curled deep into Makoto’s hair. He shut his eyes tight, savoring each movement Makoto made, each breath he supplied. It was like tasting sunlight, and immediately becoming obsessed, desperate for more. Makoto’s hands moved down, to Sousuke’s hips, before curving back over his ass. He pushed Sousuke back gently, and Sousuke put a foot out to steady himself, but there was no ground to catch him. He stumbled, and fell. And Makoto fell with him, green eyes sleepy and calm as darkness enveloped them. 

“I’m going to fix you,” he whispered against Sousuke’s mouth. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Sousuke replied, and his mind rang with the words. “Just don’t leave me, okay?”

Makoto didn’t reply. He smiled against Sousuke’s lips.

And the world tipped back and shut its eyes. 

\---000---

When Sousuke woke up, he was on the floor. 

He blinked, momentarily swept up in the bliss of his dream, warmth tingling in every part of his body. But it was, unfortunately, short lived. Sousuke’s muscles began to ache in protest. His long limbs were still tangled in his blanket, which had slipped off of the bed with him and knotted around his torso somehow. 

“Dude.” Fujioka’s annoyed, stupid face stared down at him, a comb stuck in his blonde curls. “You were moaning all night. Either you were having a horrible nightmare, or a super hot porn-dream.” 

Sousuke glowered up at him, trying to ignore the blush in his cheeks. “Shut up,’ he mumbled. 

Well, shit. Humiliation coursed through him in an uncomfortable heat, and he suppressed the urge to cover his face with his hands. He had been moaning? Moaning, about a dream with Makoto. Not even a hot dream. Just… the kind of stuff Rin would come up with. 

Since when did Sousuke moan?

“Was it about that Tachibana guy?” Fujioka pressed, eyebrows lifting. He smirked. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You gawk at him every time he comes over. And, like, I’m not gay, but that is one fine hunk of man ass. You guys are dating, right?” 

“Say another word, and I will throw you out the window without hesitation,” Sousuke growled, his limbs itching with annoyance. Fujioka pouted. 

“So you’re not dating. That sucks, man. Doesn’t he like you? He acts like he likes you whenever he comes over, so why aren’t you dating?” Fujioka cupped his chin thoughtfully, regarding Sousuke with narrowed eyes. “Are you too scared to make a move, or something?” 

“I am going to murder you,” Sousuke stated in a dead voice. Fujioka held up his hands in a dismissive sign of mercy, and stepped away, out of Sousuke’s field of vision. He sighed, and glared up at the ceiling, wishing he could kick himself for dreaming something so romantically stupid. If he was going to dream about Makoto, couldn’t it have been something hot? Something that made the apparent moaning less… meaningful? He sat up and ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to remember how Makoto’s body had felt exactly. Well, not exactly, since it had been a dream, but close enough. 

His phone buzzed on the soda--can littered bedside table, and Sousuke scooped it up and held it to his face, absently rubbing his growling stomach. 

'Makoto: Hey! Did you sleep well?' 

Sousuke smiled a little hopelessly. If only Makoto knew.... 

'Sousuke: Yeah, pretty well. You?'

'Makoto: Well, Tanaka-kun was up all night playing loud video games, so I didn’t get a lot of sleep… But what I did get was nice. :)'

'Sousuke: That sucks. Maybe Tanaka-kun could take my stupid roommate and you could come live with me. I wouldn’t keep you up' 

It was intended as a joke, but now Sousuke couldn’t stop imagining Makoto really living with him. Just the two of them, together all the time. They’d certainly get along better. Maybe, someday, the time would come that Sousuke would be keeping Makoto up… He felt his face flush at the pleasant idea. 

'Makoto: Aww, how chivalrous of you, Sou. Although, I’m not sure how I feel about waking up a bear like you every morning, lol ;)'

Damn that boy. It seemed that Sousuke was always debating whether Makoto was flirting with him, or just being Makoto. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him… But Sousuke couldn’t ignore the fact that Makoto had called him ‘Sou.’ Was that just a shortening of his name, or did Makoto intend for there to be a “-chan” after that? Should he start calling Makoto ‘Mako,’ like Rin did?

'Sousuke: Lol fair enough. You wanna watch a movie tonight?'

'Makoto: Sure!! But won’t your roommate mind?'

'Sousuke: I’ll kick him out if he doesn’t cooperate'

'Makoto: I don’t want to intrude…'

'Sousuke: Makoto, you break into our dorm every morning to wake me up for jogging. And then you come at night to make me do stretches and exercises before bed. Me inviting you is hardly an intrusion.'

'Makoto: Fine, fine! ^^; I see your point. Do you want me to bring the movie?'

'Sousuke: I’ll handle it. You just show up and bring popcorn if you have it.'

'Makoto: Not popcorn. I’ll bring something that doesn’t go against the regimen'

'Sousuke: You’re starving me, Mako.'

'Makoto: It’s for your own good, you big whiner!!' 

Sousuke smiled down at his phone, imagining Makoto’s scrunched, annoyed face at that. He texted Makoto a quick reply, before laying back down on the floor, his chest feeling as light as a balloon. 

He wondered what to watch. Temptation to rent something that would make Makoto cling to him tugged at his mind, but he’d hate to do that to the poor guy. Maybe a romantic comedy? Sousuke knew he wouldn’t last through it, but Makoto might enjoy something like that. He’d mentioned that, as the older sibling of two little kids, he’d never really watched movies above a PG-13 rating. Sousuke could work with that. 

“Hey, you’re getting out of here tonight,” he said to Fujioka. 

“Alright. You getting laid?” 

“No, just watching a movie.” 

“Ooh, which one? Can I watch?” 

“No.” 

\---000---

Makoto came up around nine, with a packet of low-calorie chips tucked under his arm. He was dressed very casually - a sloppy t-shirt, his glasses, and shorts, which, unfortunately, didn’t show the birthmarks on his thighs that Sousuke had grown very fond of. He still looked super hot, however. Like he always did. Sousuke tried to ignore the little flutter in his stomach when he opened the door. 

“Hey,” he said, motioning with a tilt of his head for Makoto to come in. 

“How was your day?” 

“Uneventful. Yours?” 

“Eh, it was okay.” Makoto shrugged. “As good as back-to-back classes can be. A professor yelled at me for being late, but that can hardly be helped.” 

“Ugh, that sucks,” Sousuke said, all too familiar with screechy professors. He shut the door behind Makoto, and gestured to his bed, where his tiny TV set rested, along with a couple pillows. “Sorry about the tight squeeze. I would sit on Fujioka’s bed, but I’m pretty sure there are cockroaches living in his mattress.” 

“It’s fine! We can squish,” Makoto said with a smile. He crawled comfortably onto Sousuke’s bed, the blanket dipping beneath his weight, and moved against the wall. Grinning, he patted the spot next to him for Sousuke to sit. Sousuke tried not to let his heart hammer as he scooted next to him. Their shoulders, thighs, and knees brushed, but there was no space for Sousuke to move away. Makoto didn’t seem to mind, at least. He blinked at Sousuke expectantly. 

“What are we watching?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s an Australian movie. Rin recommended it.” Sousuke shrugged. “I haven’t watched a lot of foreign movies, but Rin says it was good, so I thought we might as well.”

“Fine by me. As long as it’s not, well, scary…” Makoto flushed with embarrassment, his skin hot against Sousuke’s. Sousuke cleared his throat and focused on putting the disc into the movie player, memories from his dream resurfacing. He pushed it away, but it forced it’s way back, and the thought of kissing Makoto on a white beach stayed stubbornly in his mind’s eye. He sat back as the movie began to play. Electricity went up and down his spine as Makoto shifted beside him to get more comfortable. They were hopelessly squished, long legs tangled slightly, and Sousuke wished he could put his arm around Makoto’s shoulders to make space. Or… something like that. 

Makoto seemed to be thinking something similar. He kept wiggling, mumbling whispered apologies as he attempted to get in a better position, and Sousuke nearly fell off the bed a couple times. His jaw set in annoyance as Makoto shifted again, bringing his legs up to his chest and nearly clocking Sousuke in the face. He muttered another apology, and Sousuke sighed. 

“Look, maybe we should just…” Sousuke began, and he gently pushed Makoto forward. With the added space, he leaned against the wall and spread his legs, before patting inbetween them for Makoto to sit. Makoto blinked at him, his cheeks turning pink. 

“There?” he asked tentatively. Sousuke nodded, frustrated as he felt warmth in his own face. Makoto hesitated, but gave a small nod, and scooted backward to sit between Sousuke’s legs, his back against Sousuke’s chest. Sousuke inhaled sharply at his warm, sweet scent. A strand of Makoto’s soft hair tickled his nose.

“Is this better?” he asked, wincing at how husky his voice sounded. 

“Yeah. Yeah, this is much better,” Makoto laughed nervously, his shoulders relaxing. “At least one of us won’t fall off of the bed, now.” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Can you see?” 

Sousuke frowned at the back of Makoto’s head. “Not really.” 

“Put your chin here,” Makoto said lightly, touching his finger to his shoulder. 

“Huh?”

Makoto sighed, and reached backward with one gentle hand to clasp Sousuke’s face. He led Sousuke’s chin forward and set it on his shoulder, before letting his hand drop. Sousuke tried not to react too visibly. He prayed Makoto couldn’t feel the ragged beating of his heart, and tried not to think about Makoto’s warmth, or how Makoto’s legs were overlapping his own. 

“Is that any better?” Makoto asked, suddenly and softly. Sousuke started. He was beginning to regret suggesting this position. 

“Uh huh. Yeah, I can see the screen, now.” 

“Put your arms around me,” Makoto ordered in a gentle voice. When Sousuke hesitated, Makoto reached back and took his hands, leading them to rest against his stomach. Sousuke tried not to think about how muscled Makoto’s abdomen felt through his shirt. He marvelled at how calm Makoto was remaining. Since when was he so comfortable in such intimate positions?

“Sousuke? Are you alright?” Makoto whispered, his voice lowered against the sound of the movie, “Your… Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 

“I’m fine,” Sousuke said. He paused, hoping to think of an excuse for his pounding heart, but came up short, and settled with falling silent and pretending he was watching the movie. He stiffened as Makoto leaned against him with a sigh, his hair tickling Sousuke’s forehead. 

“D-does this make you uncomfortable?” Makoto asked. The words vibrated in his throat and against Sousuke’s ear. Sousuke forced himself to concentrate on answering coolly. 

“No. Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

He felt Makoto smile. “No. Well, maybe a little. But we’re friends, right? And it’s to save room, so we have an excuse. It’s not like we’re dating, or anything. It also feels weirdly nice… I’m not used to people being bigger than me, so it’s a little disorienting to sit like this.” 

“Mm-hm,” Sousuke agreed, the thought of dating Makoto hitting him hard. He was overcome by Makoto’s smell, and the way Makoto’s skin felt against his own. He marvelled at how perfectly they fit together. Like the last two pieces of a puzzle. Their limbs, although long and hard to maneuver, settled in all of the right places,. Sousuke could imagine that this is how they’d usually watch movies, if they were dating. He liked holding Makoto like this, because Makoto was warm against his chest and his hair smelled nice. And he imagined Makoto would like this too, because he could snuggle into Sousuke when he was scared. 

Sousuke thought, if they were dating, of course, he’d also enjoy this position because Makoto’s neck was so close and exposed. Sousuke would be able to kiss or suck on his soft pulse whenever he wanted. If he got bored with the movie, all he would have to do is lean back and nuzzle into the nape of Makoto’s neck, which he figured was a very nice place to nuzzle. 

And, if they were dating, it would be very easy to slip Makoto’s shirt off when they were sitting like this… And Makoto’s body would be so warm against Sousuke’s, and Sousuke would get to trail his lips down Makoto’s back with tender kisses… He could imagine Makoto’s voice, soft but sure, coaxing him on, their fingers lacing and gripping each other tightly as Sousuke kissed his hot skin….

A pressure in the ‘downstairs area’ snapped Sousuke out of his thoughts. His stomach sank in horror as he felt the familiar sensation of an erection. 

A boner. Now, with Makoto’s ass right in front of his crotch. 

Sousuke prayed to any deity out there that Makoto wouldn’t feel it, but he knew there was no way Makoto wouldn’t notice. The guy was practically sitting on his lap. Sousuke shut his eyes tight and wished for the sweet release of death. He awaited Makoto’s reaction, which came in a few moments, as Makoto jumped, muscles tensing. 

“S-Sousuke…” he mumbled. His neck was hot against Sousuke’s cheek. 

“Shit…” Sousuke groaned. He snaked his arms out from under Makoto’s armpits and covered his face with his hands. His cheeks burned beneath his palms. “Shit, Makoto. I’m… I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t…” His tongue refused to cooperate. He wished for some outside force to strike him down, to save him from the embarrassment of meeting Makoto’s eyes. 

“H-hey, it’s okay,” Makoto muttered, his voice an octave higher. “It happens.” 

“Shit,” Sousuke said again, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don't get off on foreign action movies, I swear.”

“Don’t be. Really, Sousuke, it’s not that big of a deal,” Makoto replied, but his eyes betrayed his actual emotions. Panic and confusion swam in those apple-green depths. Sousuke could practically see the frantic thoughts running through his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke repeated himself with a hollow voice. He was pretty sure he was dead inside. 

“Sousuke, really. You’re fine.” Makoto flashed him a kind smile. “I get it.” 

“You get it?” Sousuke echoed, feeling his eyes widen and his chest tighten in horror.

Makoto knew? Makoto knew what he had been thinking? Maybe he had guessed. Or, maybe, he had been thinking about the same thing…?

“Yeah. Of course I do, Sousuke. I’m a guy, after all,” Makoto replied, blinking innocently. “What, you think you’re the only guy who gets surprised?” 

“A-ah.” Sousuke’s wriggling insides seemed to freeze. 

So Makoto didn’t know. Not really. 

“Look, let’s just watch the movie, okay? We can forget about it,” Makoto offered. He shifted back to look at the screen, and Sousuke winced, very, very aware of what was happening a little farther down. He didn’t understand how Makoto could be so calm. Sousuke surely wouldn’t be, if the roles were switched. Remaining cool and collected with a semi-hard dick against your ass, only separated by a few articles of clothing, was definitely something Sousuke considered impressive. 

He wondered with a jolt if Makoto had ever been in this position before. 

Sousuke hadn’t known Makoto for a very long. He remembered him from that one race, back in middle school, but they’d never talked until their last years in high school. But, even in that short amount of time, Sousuke had never known Makoto to date anyone. He and Nanase had always been together, so that might’ve been one of the reasons. Sousuke couldn’t comprehend why nobody would ask him out otherwise. 

But maybe Makoto had dated. Maybe he had been in this position before, with somebody that Sousuke didn’t know. That would explain why he was so calm. 

So… Hypothetically, if Sousuke were to make a move, would he still be so collected? 

“Do you want some?” Makoto asked after a few minutes, offering Sousuke some of the chips he had brought. Sousuke nodded and reached to grab a handful, holding them in Makoto’s lap and lifting them one at a time to his mouth. They weren’t bad. Painfully healthy, but not bad. 

“What do you think?” Makoto asked. 

Sousuke shrugged. “Okay.” 

Makoto smiled in satisfaction. “They’re not the best, but Haru suggested them. They’re better than nothing, at least.” 

“Fair enough,” Sousuke replied, reaching for more. He realized with satisfaction that the trouble he’d been having ‘downstairs’ was slowly leaving. He hoped that, by some stroke of pure luck, Makoto would forget the whole thing quickly. 

They watched the movie in silence, Sousuke’s chin rested again on Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto would flinch every now and then when an explosion happened on screen, or one of the characters were shot or wounded, and would press himself against Sousuke, which made Sousuke’s heart hammer excitedly. He found himself less interested in the movie, and more in Makoto, who was so ridiculously warm and comfortable that Sousuke had to fight the urge to squeeze him tight and bury his face in that soft hair. He smelled like deodorant, chlorine, and sweet citrus, which, to Sousuke, felt like the greatest combination imaginable. 

“You smell like the sea,” Makoto spoke, as if reading Sousuke’s thoughts. Sousuke blinked in surprise, looking up at Makoto out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No, no. I like it,” Makoto said with a warm smile, “It reminds me of summer in Iwatobi.”

“Oh. Well, thanks, I guess.” 

Makoto laughed. “My pleasure, Sousuke.” He paused, thinking. “You don’t want me to call you Sou-chan, do you? Like Nagisa?” 

“No,” Sousuke said a little too forcefully. He caught himself and tensed. “Well, if you wanted to… I wouldn’t have a problem with it, as long as you didn’t throw it around.” 

He felt Makoto grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I like using your full name.” 

“Do you want me to call you Mako-chan?” Sousuke asked, half sarcastically. Makoto chuckled. 

“Only if you want to. It’s kind of weird, hearing you say it.” 

“Why?” 

“W-well, you’re like this big macho guy,” Makoto said, his voice hitching, “I’ve never heard you address somebody with a ‘-chan’ at the end of their name, and it’s weird when you’re talking to me, especially.” Makoto sighed. “If I’m honest, getting to know you has been a little strange. Not in a bad way, though. You just really intimidated me, at the beginning.” 

“Ah.” Sousuke wasn’t surprised. This wasn’t the first time he’d been told that. He cleared his throat. “Well, I was a little intimidated by you, too.”

“Me?” Makoto started. “Why were you intimidated by me?” 

“I don’t know,” Sousuke replied with a shrug, “I just didn’t know that much about you. You seemed nice, but when I saw you swim, I wasn’t sure what to think.” 

“...When you saw me swim?” Makoto echoed, swallowing. 

“Yeah. You’ve got a rough ferocity to your stroke that not a lot of people have. It’s interesting.” Sousuke said it matter-of-factly, like he had when he was coaching Nitori. He wasn’t trying to flatter Makoto. That’s not how a conversation about swimming worked, at least not for Sousuke. What was the point in making false claims if it could only lead to unwarranted confidence and failure? “You probably could’ve gone pro if you wanted to. I was surprised when you didn’t, considering both Rin and Nanase did. I always figured you three were a package deal.” 

Makoto didn’t reply. The muscles of his back were tense against Sousuke’s chest, and Sousuke glanced at him expectantly. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah…” Makoto’s voice was barely more than a whisper. Sousuke felt him give a soft smile. “A package deal, huh? That sounds really nice.” 

Sousuke wasn’t sure what to say to that. He hesitated, before holding Makoto a little tighter and resting his nose on Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto didn’t react. He felt like a statue in Sousuke’s arms. 

An explosion flashed across the screen, illuminating their faces. Sousuke felt Makoto press closer against him. He could feel the curves of Makoto’s body, and wished he could make a mental copy of what it felt like against him. 

“...Sousuke?” 

“Hm?” 

“Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

“For being my friend. For saying those things. For just… being here. I appreciate it.” 

Sousuke inhaled sharply. He straightened, and Makoto turned his head back to meet his gaze. They stared at each other for a moment, and Sousuke studied Makoto. His mouth, his eyes, his cheekbones… Sousuke blinked, taken aback by just how stupidly pretty Makoto looked. He was so close, so painfully close. It felt as if he were suffocating, like the space between them was a vacuum, emptying his lungs. His lips itched to touch Makoto’s. 

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically Kisumi comes along and Sousuke is jealous. Floof ensues.

'Rin: What’s this I hear about you cuddling Makoto and getting a boner??'

Sousuke nearly choked on his coffee when he read the text. He pounded his chest and coughed, the cup of coffee jostling in his hand. Pepper shot him a weird look from the other side of the couch, her tail flicking with interest at Sousuke’s struggle. The cat still appeared rather bitter at the lack of Makoto to cuddle, as Sousuke had come down alone, (Makoto was having lunch with Nanase.) 

Once Sousuke had pulled himself together, he quickly replied to Rin, trying not to punch the keyboard too furiously. 

'Sousuke: Where did you hear that?'

'Rin: Mako messaged me about it. You sly lil bitch, hitting on one of my best friends without telling me. How long has this been going on? Does Haru know??'

'Sousuke: Nothing is happening between me and Makoto. We were just watching a movie'

'Rin: While cuddling'

'Sousuke: Not necessarily...'

'Rin: YOU ABSOLUTE SHIT. Mako messaged me at 3:00 last night with paragraphs upon paragraphs of very confused worrying and blabbering. From what I gather from his nonsense, you OFFERED to cuddle with him and then got a BONER. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?? You freaked the hell out of Mako, you perv!'

Sousuke flinched. So Makoto hadn’t been as cool about the whole thing as Sousuke had thought. Guilt swamped him as he imagined Makoto returning to his apartment and absolutely falling apart with embarrassment, as Sousuke had expected him to during the movie. Damn, the amount of self-control that guy had was uncanny… 

'Sousuke: It was an accident, Rin. I’m not a perv'

'Rin: YEaH?? Try telling that to Mako, who was just minding his own damn business when he got a dick pressed up against him'

'Sousuke: It wasn’t like that. Do you not trust me at all?'

'Rin: Now I don’t! You’re disgusting, Yamazaki. I have half a mind to fly over there and kick your ass for messing with a precious angel like Makoto. AND YOU CAN BET YOUR SWEET LIL BONER THAT IF HARU HEARS ABOUT THIS HE’S GOING TO MURDER YOU'

That was a good point. Sousuke grudgingly hoped Makoto hadn’t told his best friend about the little episode, much less any of their other sexually tense moments… He sighed and looked back at his phone, forcing himself to remain the level-headed side of the conversation. 

'Sousuke: I’m sorry, ok? It’s not like I meant for anything to happen. And I fail to see how this is any of your business.'

'Rin: It is totally my business!! I think it’s fair for me to wonder if my best friend is trying to get laid by my other best friend. You could’ve at least told me that you LIKED MAKOTO, of all people!! You do like him, right? You’re not just trying to get laid?'

'Sousuke: I really don’t have the energy right now, Rin'

'Rin: Yeah?? Why? Too busy jacking off to the thought of the only pure person left in this world?'

'Sousuke: I’ll call you later'

'Rin: DON’T THINK WE’RE DONE TALKING ABOUT THIS'

Sousuke sighed, rubbing his temple as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He ran his fingers through his short hair and glared at the ground. Part of him wanted to open the chat again and ask if Makoto had said anything that would hint that he was interested, but Sousuke didn’t want to deal with Rin’s excessive use of caps, again. He took a sip of coffee and sighed against the warm rim. Pepper eyed him warily, before getting to her paws and approaching him. She curled up against his leg and let out a small purr. Sousuke blinked down at her, a little surprised by the affection. Pepper had never exactly been Sousuke’s biggest fan. Maybe she just needed a cuddle buddy to make up for the absence of Makoto. 

“Yo, Sou-chan!” A familiar voice, paired with a hand clamping down on his head and ruffling his hair, made Sousuke jump. His stomach dropped in grudging realization as arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and the strawberry cologne of Kisumi swamped him. Kisumi leaned over to speak in his ear, tousled pink hair touching Sousuke’s cheek. “So you are here! Makoto said you would be! I was a little surprised to hear your default place of comfort was a cushy place like this, but hey, I’m not one to judge! How are you, man?” 

“Kisumi. I didn’t realize you were in the city.”

“Yup! Visiting my nana. I decided to drop by and visit my sweet Mako-chan, and heard you were here, too!” Kisumi shook his head. “What are the odds, huh? Who knew you and Makoto would get so chummy?” 

“That’s hardly the right word…” Sousuke growled. He couldn’t blame Pepper as she immediately retreated, shooting Kisumi a frosty glare. Kisumi moved around the couch and plopped down in her place, eyes alight and smile broad. 

“You two aren’t dating, are you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you two are hot together, but I always figured it would be Haruka and Mako-chan. Have you seen Haruka, lately? You two were always kind of rivals, weren’t you? But, like, bad rivals. Not like you and Rin.” 

“Rin and I aren’t rivals anymore…” Sousuke said with a frown. 

“Oh, right. You’re not swimming anymore, are you?” Kisumi winced. “Man, that sucks.” 

“...Yeah.”

“What are you doing now?” 

“Studying to take over my father’s business.” 

Kisumi snorted. “Really? You?” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke glared at him, but Kisumi ignored the look entirely, and continued talking. 

“I’m studying back in Iwatobi to become an actor or director. Like, a movie director. Isn’t that cool? It’s a lot of work, though. I’ve never been great at the actual writing part, but my drama teacher says I blow the others out of the water when it comes to the stage,” Kisumi replied, winking coyly. “Lucky for me, though, Makoto’s been helping me out with the writing stuff over skype, and I think I’m getting better. Just you wait, my face is going to be blown up on a blimp in a matter of years!” 

“Makoto writes?” Sousuke echoed, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Oh, yeah,” Kisumi nodded, his curls bouncing, “He’s really good, too. I remember back in middle school, he tried talking Haruka into joining the creative writing club with him, but Haruka didn’t want to, so I went with him. I sucked at it, though. Literature’s always been his best subject, and I always kind of expected him to become a writer, if he didn’t become a swimmer.” He beamed. “But now, after seeing him with Hayato, I’m so excited for him to become a coach! He’s gonna kick some serious ass.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.” Sousuke nodded, perplexed at this new information. He’d seen Makoto scribbling in a notebook on occasions, when they were hanging out or studying together, but he hadn’t asked about it, assuming it was a journel. Maybe he wrote there…

When he looked back up, Kisumi was smiling at him. 

“What?” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he purred, leaning forward. “Are you and Makoto dating?” 

Sousuke felt himself stiffen. “No. No, we’re not.” 

“Really? ‘Cause you just got this look in your eyes that makes me think otherwise.” 

“We’re not,” Sousuke growled, irritated. Kisumi shrugged, a knowing smile on his face. 

“So… You wouldn’t mind if I asked Makoto out?” 

He did mind. He definitely minded. The urge to punch Kisumi in the face was not unfamiliar, but Sousuke was pretty sure he had never felt it so strongly. He turned away and glared at nothing in particular, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Go for it,” he replied, “But I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about. Nanase would probably chop you up like a grilled mackerel if he found out.”

Kisumi laughed. “Fair enough. I think I’ll take that chance, though. Makoto’s too pretty to resist for too long, and I’ve been wanting to kiss him since the moment I laid eyes on that face…” 

“You’re disgusting,” Sousuke growled, wrinkling his nose. 

Kisumi stuck out his tongue teasingly.

\---000---

'Makoto: Sousuke?'

'Sousuke: Yah?'

'Makoto: Kisumi just asked me out. like on a date. 0-0'

Sousuke leaned forward, swinging his legs over the frame of his bed. He read the message again, both amused at Makoto’s shock and furious that Kisumi had actually gone through with it. His mind flashed back to the night before, when his arms had been wrapped around Makoto like a fortress, and regretted ever releasing him. The skin that Makoto had touched tingled at the memory. 

'Sousuke: Did you say yes?'

'Makoto: Yeah, I did. I couldn’t bring myself to say no, and it’s not like Kisumi and I aren’t friends, right? One date is harmless, right??'

'Sousuke: I hope you realize this is Kisumi we’re talking about.'

'Makoto: ...Yes. I don’t know what to do! I don’t want to turn him down! How could I? It’s Kiss me! Kiss me!!'

Sousuke’s heart skipped a beat. He squinted at the screen, his mind pulsing in his head. Before he could begin to wonder, however, another message from Makoto appeared in the chat. 

'Makoto: Sorry, sorry, autocorrect is devious. I meant Kiss me'

'Makoto: Dammit!!'

Sousuke swallowed a pleasant chuckle. He tried to ignore the butterflies that were furiously blooming in his stomach, and the temptation to go downstairs, knock on Makoto’s door, and obey the demand that the autocorrect had given him. He wondered if Makoto would kiss him back. If he would snake his arms around Sousuke’s neck and hold him tight, and curl his fingers in Sousuke’s hair, and just accept Sousuke’s feelings entirely. The thought made his heart pound. He forced himself to look back at the phone and text a reply. 

'Sousuke: Don’t worry too much about it. Kisumi won’t overreact if you tell him you don’t feel the same way. He’s an ass, but he’s not that much of an ass. And one date isn’t agreeing to marriage'

'Makoto: I guess you’re right. Thanks, Sou'

'Sousuke: Anytime, Mako'

'Makoto: ....Do you want to come help me pick out something to wear? ^^;'

Sousuke paused, perplexed. The thought of seeing Makoto in a series of different outfits was definitely enticing… He glanced at the piles of study material on his desk, and back at his phone. 

'Sousuke: Sure. I’ll be right down.'

\--000---

“I think you’re overthinking this, Makoto,” Sousuke said with a sigh, as Makoto rejected another sweater and pulled a new one over his head, “Especially if you’re not even interested in your date. What, you want to make sure you look extra sexy when you turn him down?” 

Makoto straightened the sweater and pouted down at Sousuke, hands on his hips. “It’s a date, Sousuke. Even if it is just Kisumi, I want to look nice, because somebody went out of their way to spend time with me. Me, of all the people in Tokyo. I’d just feel guilty if I showed up not looking at least a little decent!” He sighed, and held out his arms in front of Sousuke. “How does this look?” 

“Hot,” Sousuke replied honestly, taking a sip of the cola in his hand. But, then again, everything looked hot on Makoto. Even the hawaiian beach shirt and a pair of khakis that looked like something Sousuke’s dad would wear. This getup was especially attractive, though - a maroon sweater that hugged his torso in all the right places, jeans that showed off his thin, sexy legs, and glasses framing his bright green eyes. He had attempted to brush his hair, but if anything, he’d made the ‘I-just-rolled-out-of-bed’ look worse, (which Sousuke didn’t mind one bit.) 

Makoto flushed, his arms dropping awkwardly at his sides. “D-don’t joke, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke frowned at him, wounded. “I’m not joking. You look hot as hell,” he replied. Maybe, hopefully, Makoto’s oblivious nature would be penetrated by sheer force alone. But Makoto just rolled his eyes. Sousuke inwardly cursed. 

“Well, thanks, but ‘hot as hell’ isn’t what I think is appropriate for a first date.” 

“I’m sure Kisumi will appreciate it,” Sousuke said. Makoto flushed a deeper scarlet, his face nearly matching his sweater. Encouraged, Sousuke stood from where he sat on Makoto’s bed, and folded his arms over his chest, tilting his head. He smiled his most winning smile, but it felt awkward on his face, and he mentally told himself to practice later. Because, unfortunately, he was that deep in this ridiculous crush. “But it doesn’t matter. You look hot no matter what.” 

“Stop…” Makoto covered his face with his hands. “It’s not funny, Sousuke.” 

“I’m not joking.” 

Makoto peered through his fingers and quirked an eyebrow. “You really think I look okay?” 

“Yes, Makoto. You look fine,” Sousuke sighed, shrugging. “It’s just Kisumi.” 

“But it’s different! This is a date!” Makoto said. His hands dropped from his face and he groaned. “And I don’t even have feelings for him! What am I going to say? What if he tries to kiss me, or hold my hand? Should I pay for dinner, or should I let him do it? And what if Haru finds out about this?”

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Sousuke said, in a lame attempt to comfort him. He hesitated, before taking Makoto by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. “You’re panicking over nothing.” 

“I know… I can’t help it, though,” Makoto mumbled. He glanced away. “I’ve… never been on a date, before. Not a real one, at least.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?” 

“Yeah... I don’t know, there’s never really been anyone who I’ve liked enough to ask out. People have asked me out before, but I always found a way to get out of it…” Makoto’s shoulders slumped. “But Kisumi is my friend. Even if I don’t feel the same way, I want to show him a good time, and not mess it up.” He laughed a little. “I never imagined my first date would be with Kisumi, though.” 

Sousuke couldn’t believe it, either. He didn’t want to. The thought of Makoto and Kisumi holding hands, or making moony eyes at each other, or kissing… It made Sousuke’s blood boil. He'd never imagined himself as the jealous type, but the thought of Makoto with somebody else was not exactly appealing. 

He tried to imagine what he’d do, if he was taking Makoto out on his first date. Maybe they’d go see a movie, (a romantic comedy, or an action movie,) and then go out for icecream, or something. He could practically hear the awkward yet comfortable flirting, could practically feel the butterflies in his stomach that everyone got on a first date. Maybe they’d walk down to the pier. Maybe their fingers would brush as they walked, too shy to take the other’s hand completely. Maybe Makoto’s eyes would look incredible in the dim light, like they always did… 

He shook his head slightly, a little disgusted with himself. Ugh, he was a sap. He focused instead on Makoto’s face.

“You’ll do fine. Kisumi won’t expect it to be perfect. It’s not like he’s judging you.” 

“You’re right… I know you’re right, but I’m still so nervous,” Makoto said with a sigh. He looked at Sousuke shyly, and bit his lip around a smile. “It sounds funny, but I wish you could come. And, I don’t know, give me advice, or tell me what to do if things get awkward.” His smile spread into a wide grin, and he laughed. “Like a tiny little Sousuke to keep in my pocket and help me out.” 

Sousuke snorted. “A pocket-sized Sousuke?” 

“Yeah,” Makoto laughed again, his voice filling the dorm. “I could feed you crumbs under the table, or keep you in my hoodie, so you could whisper good pick-up lines to me.” 

A ridiculous smile tugged at Sousuke’s mouth. “Would I get a pocket-sized Makoto, too?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows, “You could help me study, or cook. I could make a tiny bed for you out of a matchbox and cotton balls.” 

“Stop,” Makoto said, with a wide smile that he attempted to cover with his hand. Sousuke, only encouraged, continued, unable to help his own grin. 

“You could ride on my shoulder while I jog, or hide in my hands when we’re watching a scary movie. I’d take you down to the coffee shop and give you a straw to drink hot chocolate through, and you could snuggle up to Pepper like she was a giant tiger, or something. Like in a disney princess movie. You wouldn’t have to study because you’d be too tiny to go to school, and you could swim backstroke in a tupperware. I’d take you to the beach, and you could make the smallest sandcastles. We’d hold a record for the smallest sandcastle in the world, Makoto. It would be so damn small.” 

“Sousuke, I’m going to die,” Makoto wheezed, doubling over and clutching Sousuke’s arms for support. He laughed a silent laugh, the kind that people get when their voices stop making the usual crackly sounds. Sousuke held him up and grinned down at him, his body filling with warmth. 

“Don’t die, Makoto,” he said softly. 

“I’m not trying to!” Makoto managed, throwing his head back with a smile that could stop wars. A shiver of delight at the sight went up Sousuke’s spine. He took a step closer, and Makoto rested his forehead on his shoulder, body still shaking slightly with laughter. When he finished, he turned his head and looked up at Sousuke, nose ever so slightly brushing Sousuke’s neck. He smiled. 

“You’d make a very cute miniature, Sousuke,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling Sousuke’s skin. Sousuke couldn’t help but hold his arms a little tighter. 

“Thanks, Makoto.” 

“I don’t think I’d want a pocket-sized version of you, though.” 

Sousuke blinked. “Why?” 

“Because… I like you big,” Makoto mumbled, flushing, “...Er, regular sized, I mean. You’re very comforting, and I think I’d miss seeing your face up close.” 

“Oh?” Sousuke prayed his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. He was all too aware of where they touched, of how close their bodies were. Painfully close. Ridiculously close. But not close enough. Sousuke had never appreciated the phrase ‘All or nothing,’ so much before. 

“Mm. You’ve got a nice face,” Makoto continued, his eyelashes low over thoughtful eyes. His cheeks were pink, but he seemed too mesmerized in taking in every detail of Sousuke’s neck and face to notice his own embarrassment. Sousuke exhaled through his nose, his heart beating a little faster. 

“You have a nice face, too,” he mumbled, tilting his head slightly and pursing his lips, as if he were a professional face-studier, or something. “Nice eyes, good bone-structure, great nose… And a couple freckles on your cheeks. I hadn’t noticed those before.” 

Makoto grinned. “The perks of being the same size, huh?” 

There was no more doubt left in Sousuke’s mind. Makoto was flirting with him. Definitely. His heart did an excited little tick at this realization. 

“Mm hm. But there are many perks besides that,” he said, matter-of-factly. His grip on Makoto’s arms loosened, and he moved them to Makoto’s waist, fingering the hem of his sweater. Makoto lifted his head from Sousuke’s shoulder, his eyes flashing. His mouth parted with unspoken words, and Sousuke felt his hands snake up Sousuke’s chest, before wrapping around his neck. They stared at each other in confused amazement, each taking in every detail of the other’s face. They were frozen in time, in each other’s eyes, in each other’s touch. Sousuke’s lips twitched with longing. His heart felt as if it was going to burst through his chest. 

Before he had the chance to regret it, he moved forward, forcing their mouths together. Makoto didn’t flinch away, didn’t give any sign of surprise. He pressed against Sousuke, his warmth enveloping him completely, and moved his lips against Sousuke’s as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

The kiss was dry, limited to the heated brushing of their mouths. Before either of them could fully part their lips and slip their tongue through, the other would pull away slightly, in a neverending loop of gentle teasing. It was so effortless, so thoughtless. As if they'd been doing this for months. Sousuke was drunk on the feeling of Makoto’s lips, of how his skin felt against his. It was like kissing the human incarnate of a beam of sunlight, golden and soft and comforting. His entire body shivered with pleasure. Makoto felt so beautiful, and Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never felt something so fantastically good in his entire life. He wasn’t just kissing a hot guy, he was kissing a friend. A friend that cared about him, and wanted him to be happy. The mere thought shot brilliant, colorful fireworks throughout Sousuke’s mind.

It lasted no more than ten seconds, because a hearty knock came from the door, startling them both. Makoto pressed himself against Sousuke, his fingers curling into the fabric of Sousuke’s shirt, and Sousuke's fingers held Makoto's waist a little tighter. 

“Mako-chan!” the sing-songy, teasing voice of Kisumi came from behind the door. “Are you ready for our date?” 

As if realizing what they were doing at the same time, Sousuke and Makoto sprang apart, and Sousuke nearly fell backwards onto Makoto’s bed. Makoto blinked at him with wide eyes, his face a deeper red than his sweater. When he spoke, his voice shook. 

“C-coming!” he said, moving to open the door with shaking hands. Kisumi waited on the other side, a red rose pinched between his fingers and a coy smile on his face. He looked Makoto up and down and grinned wider. 

“You look incredible,” he practically cooed, holding the rose out for Makoto to take. His ears as vibrant as the rose itself, Makoto accepted it, and mumbled a very flustered ‘thank you.’ 

“Ah, Sousuke!” Kisumi sang, looking over Makoto’s shoulder at Sousuke, who was standing like an utter idiot in the middle of the dorm. “You weren’t helping him get ready for his date, were you?” 

“Uh…” Sousuke managed, swallowing. For a sliver of a moment, he met Makoto’s gaze, before quickly looking away. 

“Well, are you ready to go?” Kisumi turned his attention back on Makoto and lifted his eyebrows. Makoto gave a small nod, placing the rose delicately on his desk, before following Kisumi out of the dorm. 

His gaze clashed with Sousuke’s once more, panicked and hazy, before the door shut, and Sousuke was left alone. Left alone in the dorm of the boy he had just kissed, the warmth of sunlight still lingering on his lips.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more cuddling and more awkward dorks... and Sousuke wonders if he's in love.

A week and a half.

A week and a half of never laying eyes on Makoto once. It almost physically hurt. 

Sousuke jogged by himself, (later than usual and for shorter distances, without Makoto to encourage him,) studied by himself, watched movies by himself, went on coffee runs by himself… 

It was as if a fundamental part of his life had been stripped away, all because of one stupid kiss. It was embarrassing to realize just how large a part Makoto had played in his life, even after only really knowing each other for a few months.

Makoto’s ability to avoid him was uncanny. They never saw each other in the hallway anymore, never went to each other’s dorms to hang out, never so much as texted each other. Sousuke didn’t have to wonder too much on the reason behind it. Makoto must’ve not known how to face him. The poor guy was probably humiliated. It isn’t every day that you’re asked out by one friend and kissed by another. And Makoto had never exactly been one for confrontation… He probably didn’t want to say or do anything because he was afraid that they’d be awkward around each other, and wouldn’t be friends anymore. Sousuke could understand that, even though he missed Makoto like crazy. At this point, all Sousuke could really do was wait. And that sucked.

In a poor excuse for comfort, Sousuke found himself laying on his bed in the middle of the night, (assignments completely abandoned,) and flipped through the photos of the two of them on his phone. Makoto had proven himself very early as a selfie-holic, taking multiple pictures to send to Nanase, Rin, and his friends back in Iwatobi. Sousuke had never really been one for photos, but as the two had grown closer, he hadn’t objected to Makoto pulling him in for a quick snapchat to Rin or the like. Every photo that they had taken together was sent to him, and Sousuke hadn’t been able to help saving every one. He could remember each moment clearly: what Makoto had said that day, how he had felt, how he had laughed… 

His favorites, however, were the pictures that Makoto hadn’t taken himself. The ones that Sousuke had insisted on, during a jog or a walk to the coffee shop, when Makoto was doing something that he had wanted to save. Like Makoto standing beneath a cherry blossom tree with his arms spread wide and his face alight, or playing with a stray cat, or laying sprawled out in the grassy spot of a park that they liked to jog through. Sousuke even had one with Makoto wearing a daisy crown - a gift from a little girl they had played briefly with at a playground during one of their breaks. He was tempted to make it his screen saver, but Makoto stole his phone so constantly to fiddle with his apps that he decided it was best to leave it at the default screen. 

Sousuke’s finger paused from scrolling at that picture. The white flowers had been delicately placed on Makoto’s ruffled hair, and he was looking at the camera with embarrassed, bright eyes. The smallest of smiles played over his lips, and the couple of freckles along the bridge of his nose were visible in the nice lighting. Just looking at the photo made Sousuke’s entire body fill with the warmth of sunlight. 

He wanted so badly to feel Makoto’s mouth against his again, to hold him tight. He wanted to make sure that Makoto was always comfortable and happy, and to just kiss him senseless, and to bake him chocolate cake and feed him strawberries and let him sleep in his lap. He wanted to give Makoto hot chocolate every morning, topped with a heap of whipped cream, because he knew that was how Makoto liked it. He wanted to do very inappropriate things with him, and then do very gushy, romantic things with him afterward. He wanted to see that angelic, thankful smile, the one that made him wonder if anybody had ever shown Makoto the kindness that he deserved. 

Sousuke wondered with a jolt if this is what it felt like to be in love. 

He immediately discarded the thought, slightly panicked with himself. 

He wasn’t in love with Makoto. Sure, he had a hopeless crush on the guy, and thought about him constantly, but that didn’t mean he loved him. That was ridiculous. 

His phone buzzing in his hand startled Sousuke, and the notification of a new message appeared on the screen. His heart immediately began to hammer as he recognized Makoto’s name. Quickly, almost frantically, he sat up and opened the message, body tense with anticipation. 

'Makoto: Hi. Are you awake?' 

Sousuke forced himself to take his time in texting a reply.

'Sousuke: Yeah. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.'

'Makoto: I’m really sorry!! I’ve been really busy lately with Haru and studying, and I’ve just been so tired because I haven’t been getting enough sleep, so I haven’t had the time to jog or check up on your routine. I feel awful, I’m super sorry!'

Ah. So they were going to pretend that the kiss had never happened. Fair enough. Sousuke supposed that it would save future embarrassment.

'Sousuke: Don’t apologize, Makoto. I’m sorry to hear about that. You ok?'

'Makoto: Yeah, I’m fine. Just swamped, as usual'

'Makoto: I miss you' 

Sousuke paused, his throat catching. He read that little phrase maybe five times over, his heart pounding in his ears. He could imagine those words leaving Makoto’s mouth, as if it were a tentative request for a kiss. His fingers shook slightly as he replied. 

'Sousuke: me too. How are things with Kiss me?'

'Sousuke: Sorry, Kisumi*'

'Makoto: I told him how I felt, and he took it really well. He didn’t seem surprised at all, actually. We’re going out dancing tomorrow, if you want to come :) I asked Haru if he would come, but he turned me down, to no surprise'

Sousuke paused, frowning. He definitely wouldn’t mind going out with Makoto, but something about Kisumi tagging along, the guy that Makoto had just briefly dated, wasn’t so intriguing. But his mind immediately went to Makoto on a dance floor, holding his arms out and inviting Sousuke forward, with a smile on his face and sweat making his shirt cling to his abdomen and back… 

'Sousuke: Sure. Got nothing better to do'

'Makoto: Great!! ^^'

'Sousuke: Do you maybe wanna come up and hang out? We could watch a movie, or something. My roommate isn’t here, so the dorm doesn’t smell so strongly of cigarettes.' 

'Makoto: Well, it’s the middle of the night…' 

'Sousuke: Right. K then, I’ll see you tomorrow.' 

'Makoto: No, no! Don’t worry about it, I’m on my way up :)'

Triumph caused the edges of Sousuke’s mouth to quirk up in a smile. He quickly texted a reply, before standing and moving to the tiny mirror on the wall. He tousled his short hair, hoping for a sexy, messy look, and wiped the remains of the turkey sandwich he had eaten from his chin. He hesitated, looking down at himself, before slipping his shirt off from his head and changing his jeans out for a pair of shorts that showed off his legs. It felt ridiculous doing this, but the idea of making Makoto blush with a scarce amount of clothing was too good to pass up. 

A gentle knock came from the door, and Sousuke hurried to open it, his heart leaping as he met that soft, comforting gaze. Makoto smiled at him. He wore a night shirt that was a little too small on his tall frame, and the basketball shorts that allowed the view of the birthmarks on his thighs. Tucked under his arms were another bag of health-chip-crap, the little black book, and a pencil. Sousuke caught him staring at his naked chest, and couldn’t help a smile. 

“Come on in,” he said, motioning with his head. Makoto slipped in without a word, and promptly flopped onto Sousuke’s bed, as if it were his own. Sousuke snorted. He perched himself on the edge of the mattress. “Are you tired?” 

“Ugh, you have no idea,” Makoto groaned, shifting his body so he lay on his side. His hair flopped over, out of his face, and Sousuke was reminded of that sexy thing he did back in high school, when he slicked his bangs away after a taxing relay. It was still super hot. “College really is the worst. I mean, you hear that all the time in high school, but it really is awful. I just spent the whole of last week preparing for this gigantic presentation on the tactics of teaching, and barely got it in on time. And my partner didn’t do anything, which was annoying, and he messed up half of his lines in the middle of the presentation, which sucked. But my teacher said I did really good. She says she might even write me a good review for a job at Tokyo’s training facility.”

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “Really? That’s great. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I… Well…” Makoto glanced away, and his cheeks pinked a little. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t know where we stood. You know, with the whole, um…” 

“A-ah,” Sousuke mumbled. He coughed into his hand, wincing slightly as an awkward silence fell between them. Makoto seemed to boil under the tension, though, and quickly saved them both from any further embarrassment. 

“You’ve been doing your stretches before bed, right? And you’ve been following the plan I sent you a couple days ago? I think it’s a much better regimen that our initial one. It will really strengthen the flexibility of your shoulders, and I was talking with my anatomy teacher about it, and she gave me some tips on ways to practice the movement of a butterfly stroke in a way that’ll avoid total stress on your shoulder. Have you been doing it right?” 

“Yes, Makoto,” Sousuke said with a small smile, “I’ve been doing them every night.” 

“And?” 

“They’re great. Your anatomy teacher seems to know what she’s talking about.” 

Makoto laughed. “I should hope so.” He straightened, and pushed his hair farther out of his face, making Sousuke’s stomach knot a little tighter. “Here, show me what you do, so I know you’re not doing them wrong.” 

“Okay,” Sousuke said with a shrug. He stood, and began the procedure to the stretches, moving his bad shoulder slowly through the motion of a stroke. There was a bit of ache in response, but from what his doctor had said after looking over Makoto’s research, it was normal to feel some discomfort, even for somebody with a good shoulder. He couldn’t help but show off a bit, stretching his muscled stomach and exaggerating the movement of his torso. He caught Makoto flushing a pretty pink out of the corner of his eye, and smiled softly to himself. Having the body of a nationally ranked swimmer certainly didn’t hurt when it came to impressing guys.

He dropped his arms and turned to Makoto. “Like that?” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, that’s just like my teacher showed me.” 

“Good,” he said, and sat back down on the bed, their knees immediately making contact. He tilted his head and studied Makoto, a thought coming to him. “You’d make a really good butterfly swimmer, I think.” 

Makoto started, blinking in surprise. “Really? Me?” 

“Yeah. Have you ever tried, before? You certainly have the shoulders for it.” 

“Oh, uh, I did a little, back in high school. Rin tried to teach me, but I never really got into it.” Makoto shrugged helplessly. “It feels a little unnatural. It seems like my attention is always on the wrong thing at the wrong time. There’s so much to keep track of. It’s different than backstroke, because all that seems to matter is getting from one cloud to the next.” he laughed. “You know, since you’re always looking at the sky.” 

“Mm. I could teach you, you know,” Sousuke offered, relieved that they were slipping back into comfortable conversation, “You’re swimming a lot with Nanase, right? It wouldn’t hurt knowing another stroke for yourself.” 

“Maybe…” Makoto shrugged. His fingers fiddled with the corners of his little black notebook, reminding Sousuke of what Kisumi had said the other day, about Makoto being a writer. He tentatively reached forward and took the book from Makoto, glancing up to him for permission. Makoto didn’t pull away, and let Sousuke take the book, hands shaking a little. 

“...What is it?” Sousuke asked. He held the book gently, as if it were made of glass. 

“Oh, um, it’s nothing, really,” Makoto mumbled. His leg began to tick, and he looked from Sousuke to the book and back to Sousuke. “Just… I sometimes like to write when I have free time. It’s sort of a way to ease my nerves, or just distract me. I also like to jot down moments, you know? Like, there will be the tiniest things that I won’t remember later, so writing them down is sort of a way to remind myself of small things that make me happy.” 

“Mm, that’s smart,” Sousuke said, running his thumb over the rough material of the book’s cover, “Kisumi mentioned that you like to write. Are you any good?” 

Makoto gave a nervous laugh. “I, uh, don’t know. I don’t usually show it to people.” 

“Is it private?”

“Not necessarily… Nobody’s really ever asked, and it’s a little embarrassing.”

“Can I…?” Sousuke started, opening the book slightly. Makoto flushed a bright red, but gave a tiny nod. At his consent, Sousuke opened the book, flipping through the thick, lined paper with careful fingers. His own name caught his eye, and he paused, muscles tensing. He felt Makoto shiver at his side as he began to read. 

\-----------  
'It breaks my heart to think that Sousuke might never swim again.  
I remember that first race, that first relay, that would lead to a number of competitions between our two teams. Sousuke had sliced through the water with deadly precision, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a little terrifying. It was almost as if he were ripping through the pool like a cool knife, sharp and smooth, matching Haru’s pace as if it was all effortless. He moved as a shark would, after tasting blood: painfully accurate and beautifully quick. The boy that we had raced back in middle school was no longer a little boy. He was too real, too passionate, too strong. After watching this new addition to Rin’s team, I had never been so afraid for my friends, and the losses that we were bound to face because of this new challenge. But it was also exciting… With new obstacles comes new growth, and I want nothing more than seeing my friends grow and flourish. I began to think fondly of Yamazaki Sousuke, as a new challenge that my team and I would overcome together, and maybe befriend along the way.  
'Finding out about his injury was not intentional, and I can’t help but feel guilty for learning something so private without his consent. I was horrified - both by the pain he must’ve been experiencing, and the thought that even with his injury, he was dangerously close to surpassing us. Haru says I worry too much about others, and he’s probably right. I found myself conflicted, between focusing on my team’s own troubles and worrying about this person I knew next to nothing about. In the end, I didn’t do anything, but I regret that profusely. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that I could’ve done something. I knew, and I didn’t help. He probably would’ve found me meddlesome, but just letting him know that somebody cared would’ve been enough from my end. I figured that it wouldn’t matter. We’d go on with our lives without ever growing close, and I would forget never helping him. I would be able to forgive myself for letting him hurt.  
'But here he is now, and a day doesn’t go by that I don’t feel guilt. Upon seeing him race Haru again, I had thought that the little boy from before was gone. But he’s still there. No matter what Yamazaki Sousuke wants others to think, he is still capable of the laughter and happiness of a child. And that only breaks my heart more. He is so beautiful, and kind, and ridiculously funny. Even if he doesn’t intend it, he makes me smile hours after seeing him, and I blame Rin a little for not introducing us sooner, (although I know that’s unfair.) He is still passionate and strong, as I expect he always will be, but I am discovering a side of him that I’ve never seen.   
'Sometimes I wonder if he looks at other people the way he looks at me. It’s hard not to notice the difference, if I’m completely honest with myself. It’s the same look he gets when he looks at Rin, or a little kid, or even Pepper the troublesome cat. Every time he looks my way, it feels as if I’ve been granted a sight that nobody has ever seen before, a treasure that few have laid eyes on. And when he laughs, it’s as if his voice is ringing throughout my entire body, and I feel a warmth that I’ve never experienced.   
'But it is still a form of agony. Because, no matter how happy he is, there is always loss in his eyes. And I still can’t help but blame myself for not being here for him sooner. He is too good, too intelligent, too beautiful, to be held back. All I can do is hope that I can make it up to him. He deserves that much.' 

\--------------

Sousuke stopped reading, not sure if he could take it anymore. He looked up at Makoto, his heart a mere flicker in his chest. Makoto met his gaze, his cheeks flushing scarlet. His knee was bouncing so furiously against Sousuke’s that the whole bed vibrated with the motion. 

“It’s, uh, really sappy, I know,” he mumbled, stumbling over the words. He quickly looked away. “It’s not even real writing, really. It’s just the stupid thoughts I have sometimes… Most of it is so embarrassing. I never thought you’d read it, so I got a little carried away…” 

“You think I’m… beautiful?” Sousuke interrupted him, his voice low and thick. His own knee was beginning to sync with Makoto’s, bouncing beyond the comprehension of his mind, (which was practically frozen.) Makoto turned an even deeper crimson. He met Sousuke’s eyes sheepishly. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do.” A nervous laugh burst from his lips. He slapped his hands over his face and groaned. “This is so humiliating… I never imagined I’d be showing somebody this, especially not you. Now you know how completely hopeless I am.” 

“...How long does this go?” Sousuke asked, skimming a little farther through the pages covered in Makoto’s elegant, short handwriting. 

“I-It’s not all about you!” Makoto said, his voice an octave higher, “Most of it is about stupid stuff, like cats, and things. People I see on the street who look like they have stories to tell… That sort of cheesy stuff.” 

“Mm.” Sousuke turned back to the original page, 60% certain that he was about to float away from both happiness and embarrassment. Makoto really thought all those things about him...? He paused, his eyes skimming again over the moments on the page when Makoto expressed his guilt. His stomach tightened painfully at that. 

Stupid, selfless Makoto… Blaming himself for something that was out of his control… 

“I meant it, you know,” Makoto said suddenly, and Sousuke looked up. Makoto flinched under his gaze, but don’t shrink away. “About feeling guilty. I knew, and I didn’t do anything. I, uh, think about that all the time. And, well, I’m really sorry. You never should’ve gone through that alone, and-"

He was cut short by Sousuke grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. Sousuke buried his face in Makoto’s hair, his body shaking slightly with contained, confusing emotions. After a moment, he felt Makoto relax into his arms, and felt him slide his hands over Sousuke’s back, returning the hug. They clung each other tightly, almost possessively, and the world could've ended right then and there, for all Sousuke cared.

All that mattered was keeping Makoto safe.

Maybe, if he hugged him tight enough, they would both be enveloped in each other’s embraces, and everything would stop moving and tangling and burning. Maybe they could forget everything else - Sousuke’s shoulder, stupid classes and assignments, annoying roommates, unfulfilled dreams… Maybe they could just drown together into nothingness, and everything would be okay. 

“Don’t ever apologize for your own kindness, Makoto,” he whispered, almost breathlessly. Makoto didn’t reply, but his grip on Sousuke tightened. His fingers began to trace the curve of Sousuke's shoulder blades gently, in a soft afterthought of an action that made Sousuke want to fall asleep in his arms. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, enjoying Makoto's touch. 

\--000---

At 2:00 in the morning, after sharing a very emotional hug that lasted a good five minutes, they both deemed it a great time to watch a movie. 

Makoto, who had never really been one for staying up late, fell asleep almost immediately, before the title of the movie could even appear on the screen. He slumped against Sousuke’s bare chest, arms laid out on either side of him. Drool was rapidly pooling on Sousuke’ shoulder, but he didn’t care that much, and actually thought it was about the cutest thing he’d ever seen. His suspicions had been right… Makoto slept like a damn angel. 

He managed to get about halfway through the movie, before sleep tugged at his eyelids, and he fought to stay awake, determined to enjoy every moment of Makoto’s cuddling. He entertained himself by playing with Makoto’s hair, tracing his face gently, and lifting his limp hand up to his lips to kiss his knuckles. To his relief, Makoto didn’t wake at his touch, and continued gently snoring. Sousuke’s heart felt as if it were going to burst with happiness at how naturally it all felt. 

His phone buzzed suddenly, waking him up a little, and he fumbled to take it out of his pocket. He squinted at the screen. 

'Rin: Yo. You up?'

'Sousuke: Yeah, but it’s like 3 in the morning. I was about to go to sleep'

'Rin: Ugh, this time distance thing sucks. Hey, you and Mako should skype with me sometime together. I’ll have to figure out the schedules, but I’ll text you when I’m free and we can figure out a time'

'Sousuke: K. I’ll ask Mako when he’s free when we wake up'

'Rin: Wait, what?'

'Rin: When ‘WE’ wake up??'

'Rin: YOU’RE NOT SLEEPING WITH MAKOTO ARE YOU'

'Sousuke: Relax, it’s not like that. He just happens to be spending the night'

'Rin: HES NOT IN YOUR BED IS HE' 

In reply, Sousuke angled his phone to snap a picture of Makoto, who had snuggled deeper against his chest, his hair sticking up in every direction. Sousuke gave a soft smirk and sent Rin the photo. Rin replied in an instant, causing the phone in Sousuke’s hand to buzz madly. 

'Rin: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE YOU DO NOT DESERVE MAKOTO YOU COMPLETE ASS JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL EVERYBODY ELSE HEARS ABOUT THIS HARU IS GOING TO KILL YOU IF I DONT AND YOU CAN EXPECT COMPLETE HELL FROM IWATOBI'

'Sousuke: I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself, thanks. I’m not even sure what’s going on and I don’t want to freak Mako out. You don’t have to worry Rin it’s only innocent cuddling. We haven’t even been on an actual date, so…'

Deciding to deal with Rin’s screeching the next morning, Sousuke set his muted phone back on the bedside table, snuggled closer into Makoto’s warmth, and buried his nose in that soft hair. Sleep came in a matter of moments. 

He dreamed of falling in love with orcas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhahaha I'm awful. :')


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UGH I'm awful it's been way too long... -_- Holidays are overrated.

They woke up spooning. 

It was like waking from a heavenly dream, only to find yourself in an entirely new one. 

Holding Makoto was similar to holding a cup of steaming hot chocolate. The mouth-watering, ever-so-comforting hot chocolate that comes after a long trek through the snow and warms your entire body. He was so warm against the curve of Sousuke’s chest and legs that Sousuke couldn't help but wrap his arms around him even tighter. Makoto felt so incredibly nice, and his hair smelled so wonderful, and his skin was soft, and he was making those breathy little snores that puppies make when they fall asleep… 

The temptation to brush his lips against Makoto’s neck, (or any part of his body, really,) was almost overwhelming. It made Sousuke’s heart pound a little faster, made his mouth twitch. His mind returned to the usual daydream of dating Makoto, of waking up like this all the time and kissing Makoto’s neck and whispering sweet nothings in his ear to wake him up. He imagined Makoto twisting around and nuzzling his face in the crook of Sousuke’s collarbone, returning the kisses and trailing his fingers down Sousuke’s arm, before resting them on the waist band of his shorts and tugging ever so sweetly and sexily. The perfect morning. 

Makoto was still asleep. Maybe he could get away with a quick peck.

Gathering his courage and praying that Makoto wouldn’t wake up, Sousuke brushed his mouth over the nape of Makoto’s neck. The heat from Makoto’s skin exploded against his lips, and he shivered, completely enthralled. He held the kiss to Makoto’s neck for a moment, before pulling away and sitting up, in hopes of saving them both the embarrassment of when Makoto awoke. 

His motion caused Makoto to stir. Blinking sleepily, one cheek pink from where it had rested against Sousuke’s arm, he rolled over and pouted up at Sousuke, oblivious to their previous position. Yellow sunlight coming through the window bathed his face. It turned his tan skin and chestnut hair to a soft copper, giving the illusion that he was made out of gold. Sousuke swallowed a hopeless sigh at how angelic he looked. 

Damn it. Sousuke was so far gone that he was beginning to forget what it felt like to have a normal train of thought.

“What time is it?” Makoto mumbled. His eyes drifted shut and snapped back open again in an effort to remain awake. 

“I’ll check,” Sousuke whispered a reply, hoping to preserve the quiet atmosphere. He leaned over Makoto to pluck his phone from the bedside table. “Um, 8:19.” 

“Wait, what?” Makoto shot up, and Sousuke’s vision danced with stars as their foreheads collided. Makoto yelped in a mixture of horror and pain. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Sousuke grumbled. He rubbed his head and gave Makoto an incredulous look. “What’s wrong?” 

“My first class starts in ten minutes!” Makoto said, clumsily swinging his legs over the side of the bed and shooting to his feet. He stumbled in a blind panic towards the door to put his shoes on. “I have an assignment due! My professor is going to kill me!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” Sousuke growled. He maneuvered the blanket off of his legs to join Makoto by the door. “You’re never going to make it if you panic.”

“I’m never going to make it at all, Sousuke!” Makoto groaned. He attempted to slip a shoe on with his leg in the air, and nearly collided into Sousuke’s chest. He probably would’ve toppled over if Sousuke hadn’t steadied him. “Crap, I can’t miss today! The professor told us we’d be taking down a lot of information before the week let up, and I’m behind enough as it is! Sousuke, I’m going to die homeless if I don’t get to class, like, right now.”

“You’re not going to die,” Sousuke sighed, rolling his eyes, “Honestly Makoto, you’re one of the best students I’ve ever met. Your teacher probably adores you.” 

“She won’t if I’m late again!” 

“You’re overreacting.” 

“It’s college, Sousuke!” Makoto cried, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation, the shoe in one hand, “If you don’t overreact, then you don’t graduate! And you die, Sousuke. You die on the street, swirling around in your own debt. Why would you want that to happen to me, Sousuke? Why?” He scrunched his face up and hissed and swung around to survey the room. “And where are my glasses? I can’t do anything withou-”

“Makoto.” Sousuke interrupted him by clasping his cheeks, causing his lips to purse and his words to become muddled. Makoto blinked up at him with wide eyes, falling silent. “You are not going to die. Okay? One day isn’t going to make a difference, and nothing is going to get done if you freak out.”

“But the class-”

“-Will go on without you,” Sousuke finished. He sighed, and smiled softly, releasing Makoto. “Take this day to rest, okay? You’ve been working nonstop. You deserve it.” 

Makoto pulled his eyebrows together, making the hopelessly cute face he did when he was concerned about someone. “What about you? Don’t you have to get to class?” 

“Eh. I’m bored with business.”   
“Sousuke, don’t say that! It’s important!” 

“Who cares?” Sousuke felt his face turn a frustrated pink. He glared down at his feet and glowered. “I’d… rather spend the day with you.” He tried to ignore the shock that overtook Makoto’s expression. And then the innocent happiness that almost immediately replaced it. 

“That’s sweet, Sousuke,” Makoto said, his voice almost a purr. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Sousuke growled. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Well, do you? Want to spend the day with me, I mean. We could watch movies or some shit.” 

“I really shouldn’t…” Makoto said, and his shoulders slumped, “That sounds great, but if I’m really missing classes, I should try to get caught up with the assignments I already have. I have three essays I’m juggling right now, and one I haven’t even started…” Makoto met his gaze apologetically, and lifted a hand to brush Sousuke’s arm. Sousuke suppressed a shiver at the teasing touch. He fought the hungry instinct to shove Makoto up against the wall and grind into him as if his life depended on it. Damn these hormonal urges... “I’ll see you later, though. You’re coming dancing with Kisumi and I, right? You said you would.” 

“...I did say that, didn’t I?” Sousuke said with a sigh. 

Makoto smiled. “Yeah.”

“Shit,” Sousuke said, flashing him a hopeless smile, “I have to warn you, though, I suck at dancing. To an embarrassing level.” 

“And you think I don’t?” Makoto said with a laugh, “Seriously, I just end up looking like a drunk giraffe. I never know what to do with my hands, and I just end up shuffling around looking lost. Maybe it’s just a height thing…” He beamed, and Sousuke was afraid for a moment that he would go blind that sleepy, somewhat frazzled smile. “But it’s fun. And Kisumi’s a good enough dancer to balance it out, I think.” 

“I’m sure you’re a better dancer than I am.” 

“No, I’m really not,” Makoto said, shaking his head, “But at least I’ll have company this time. We can be drunk giraffes together, right?”

Sousuke smiled. “Right.” 

“I don’t have morning breath, do I?” Makoto suddenly asked, slapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened with horror. “I’m so sorry, I have the worst morning breath imaginable. Haru always complains, and after eating those horrible chips all night…” 

“No, you’re fine,” Sousuke said, smirking. He moved to gather Makoto’s things and hand them to him. Makoto took his glasses delicately, slipping them on. “You have puppy breath.” 

“Puppy breath?” 

“Yeah. Haven’t you ever smelled a puppy’s breath?” 

“No, I haven’t. What does it smell like?”

“... I don’t even know how to describe it,” Sousuke said, laughing lightly and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s good, though. Almost sweet. I don’t know, my dog used to have it when she was little.” 

“You had a dog?” Makoto asked, lifting his eyebrows. 

“Yeah. Her name was Kin.” 

“Aw, cute. What type of dog?” 

“Golden retriever.” 

“Do you have pictures?” Makoto caught himself and laughed, shaking his head. “Right. I’m going, now. To get stuff done, like I said I would.” 

“Mm,” Sousuke agreed, nodding fondly, “Maybe later.” 

“Okay. I’ll hold you to that,” Makoto warned with a smile, “See you soon?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, and Sousuke wondered suddenly if Makoto was going to lean in for a kiss. Makoto seemed to be wondering something along those lines as well, because his green eyes flickered from Sousuke’s mouth to his gaze and back again. Before Sousuke could react, however, Makoto had turned away, giving him a cheery good-bye over his shoulder.

\---

Kisumi and Makoto came to pick him up around ten, with a soft knock at his door. 

“Who’s that?” Fujioka growled from where he lay sprawled on his bed, flipping through a very graphic magazine that contained a lot of scarcely-clad ladies on sports cars. Sousuke ignored him and moved to open the door. 

“Sousuke! I can’t believe Makoto got you to come!” Kisumi sang, as soon as his face was visible. Sousuke winced upon seeing him, overwhelmed by the colorful pink crop-top that showed off Kisumi’s flat stomach, and the skinny jeans that were so badly ripped it was as if they were just a couple of strings being weakly held together. A pair of ridiculous yellow glasses were perched on his rosy curls, and the whole outfit screamed, ‘I-got-dressed-while-high.’ He placed his hands on his hips and grinned a broad, mischievous grin. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“Holy shit,” Fujioka breathed, looking up from his magazine to gawk, “Dude, are you trying to blind the entire tri-state area?”

“Nah, I can already do that with my winning smile,” Kisumi said, making a gun-shot motion over Sousuke’s shoulder, “You’re roommate’s pretty cute, Sou. I can smell the smoke coming off of him from here, but still not bad. I’m a sucker for blondes.” 

“Kisumi…” Makoto sighed, his shoulders slumping. Sousuke looked at him for the first time, and felt his heart stop. Makoto was dressed casually, but ever so sexily, with a tight white t-shirt that outlined his chest and made his skin look tanner, ruffled hair, and ripped skinny jeans that emphasized the muscles of his thighs and calves. 

He looked like a party angel. 

“You look nice,” Makoto said, catching Sousuke off guard. He smiled, taking in Sousuke’s rumpled black band t-shirt, ruffled jeans, (which were a little too small,) and thick converse. Sousuke had selected his sexiest outfit, which had been a trick, as Sousuke was not in the possession of many sexy outfits. He’d never needed one, until stupid, pretty Makoto had waltzed into his life. 

“Thanks,” he grunted, suddenly very self-conscious of how the pants fit. 

“Well? Are we going, or what?” Kisumi said. He flipped his sunglasses down with a deft finger and grinned. “Let’s get our dance on, boys!” 

\---000---

An hour or so after leaving Makoto and Sousuke’s building, Sousuke had found himself in a very sleazy dance club, nursing a beer in one hand and a couple of disregarded numbers in the other. He leaned against the cool counter of the bar and searched the wriggling crowd for Makoto’s tall frame. The dance floor was packed with sweaty, drunk people, shaking their hands above their heads and jumping in all directions to the beat of the horrifyingly loud music. The speakers on either side of the studio vomited blasts of noise, so thick and heavy and intense that it forced Sousuke’s heart to beat along. The club was dark, only lit by fluorescent tubes of neon light that curled around the walls, creating glowing images of busty ladies and invitations to drink. It was no surprise that this was the club Kisumi had selected for their night out, but Sousuke had been a little surprised that Makoto had agreed. 

He’d been even more surprised when Makoto had accepted a beer and drank without complaint, smiling against the rim of the bottle at Sousuke. Of all the people in Tokyo, Makoto was probably the last person that Sousuke had expected to drink. But hanging out with Kisumi for long enough must’ve broken that protective, motherly barrier, at least enough to enjoy good drinks and good dancing for a night. Sousuke wasn't complaining. 

Kisumi had lead Makoto out on the dance floor almost immediately, abandoning Sousuke at the bar. Makoto had called back to him with an invitation to join them, but Sousuke had waved him off, smiling and telling him to enjoy himself. He wasn’t all too enthusiastic about making a fool of himself in front of Makoto. Not just yet. Maybe later on he’d sacrifice his dignity, when he was a little tipsier, but for now he was content in watching the writhing mob and shooting the occasion glare at people who wandered too close. A couple of girls had cornered him and forced their numbers, but otherwise he’d gone undisturbed, left in peace to occasionally catch a glimpse of Makoto on the dance floor. 

He soon realized that Makoto had lied about not being a good dancer. 

He was no Kisumi, (that pink-haired freak could dance like some sort of professional,) but Makoto proved himself early on in the night to be pretty good. He certainly drew the attention of a lot of girls, who inched their way closer and asked in coy voices if they could join him during good songs. And, Makoto being the friendly, oblivious guy he was, accepted each girl, and treated them to a song or two. He would hold their hands and jump, laughing, and they would throw their arms in the air and bounce along to the beat. Every girl seemed to enjoy herself to an embarrassing amount. Most took on disappointed expressions when Makoto didn’t ask for their number at the end of the song, and they scooted away, downcast, to join their waiting friends again. 

Curse Tachibana and his ability to break hearts in a matter of minutes.

Sousuke smiled to himself, fondness for Makoto making his pulse quicken. The guy looked absolutely radiant in the blue lights of the club, his teeth and eyes flashing with a never ending smile. Seeing him enjoy himself so much was a show in itself. 

“Oof, I’m exhausted,” Makoto panted, about an hour into the night, when he retired to the bar to stand beside Sousuke. He swept his bangs away from his face and smiled, panting slightly. “Hand me a water, will you?”

“You don’t want a beer?” Sousuke asked with a smirk. He slid Makoto’s water bottle across the counter to him. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to see me when I’m drunk,” Makoto said, laughing. He took a long drink of the water, and sighed with pleasure. Sousuke tried not to notice the drops that dripped from his lips. When Makoto finished, he placed the bottle back on the counter and scooted closer to Sousuke, their shoulders brushing. “Last time Kisumi took me dancing, I got so drunk so quickly that he literally had to drag me home. He says we drew a lot of stares, that night.” 

Sousuke smiled with amusement. Makoto’s warning only wanted him to see him drunk more. “Where is that freak, anyway?” 

“Probably still dancing with that guy he cornered a while ago,” Makoto replied, shrugging. He leaned forward to pout at Sousuke, an action that didn’t look all that natural on his chiselled, elegant face. “Why don’t you dance? I hate leaving you alone here. You look so lonely all by yourself.” 

“I’m never lonely,” Sousuke corrected him, taking a drink from his bottle, “And besides, you lied to me about dancing like a drunk giraffe. You’re actually pretty good, Tachibana.” 

“You’re kidding, right? I’m so awkward!” 

“Liar.” 

“I am not!” Makoto’s pout deepened. “How do I know that you’re not lying? You haven’t touched the dance floor once since we got here.” 

“I’d prefer to keep it that way.” 

“Stop being a hermit, Sousuke,” Makoto said, rolling his eyes. He took Sousuke’s hands gently in his. Lightning snaked up Sousuke’s back as he was flashed a beseeching, charming smile. Makoto’s summer-green eyes glittered with innocent pleading. If Sousuke wasn’t able to smell the alcohol on him, he probably would’ve bought that pure look. “Just one song.”

Sousuke hesitated. He tried not to look at how Makoto’s damp shirt clung to his body, or the excitement on that ridiculous face, or how welcoming Makoto’s hands felt. 

Maybe one song wouldn’t hurt. It certainly was an excuse to get up close and personal with a sweaty Makoto, which definitely seemed inviting…

“Alright. One song,” he gave in with a sigh, allowing himself to be pulled forward. Makoto smiled with triumph. They moved into the crowd as a new song began, and Makoto released his hands, stepping closer to speak in his ear above the roar. 

“Don’t get lost, okay?” he said. 

“Just don’t leave me,” Sousuke replied, wincing. Makoto laughed, their cheeks momentarily brushing, before he pulled away enough to begin dancing. 

Sousuke was frozen for a moment, enthralled by Makoto’s fluid movements. He could only stare as Makoto moved his hips enticingly, arms snaking upward to curl around his hair. His green eyes closed and he smiled wide, his head bobbing with the beat. The colorful lights flashed across his face, illuminating his soft skin and the couple of freckles along his nose. Sousuke felt his throat catch. He was hit again by how stupidly hot Makoto was. 

Somebody so hot should be illegal. It was hardly fair to the rest of the population of earth, and Sousuke doubted that the world was ready for somebody so breathtaking. So utterly, fantastically beautiful, that took Sousuke’s breath away every time. 

“Don’t just stand there! Dance!” Makoto laughed, snapping Sousuke out of his thoughts. He flinched, as Makoto gently clasped his waist, pulling him closer, and leading Sousuke’s body into a sway. “Loosen your hips! How do you expect to dance when you’re as stiff as a board?”

Sousuke didn’t reply, but smiled softly, allowing Makoto to direct his actions. He lifted his arms to hold Makoto’s biceps, and the two swayed in a teasing dance, letting out light bursts of laughter when they stumbled against each other. Gradually, Makoto let go of Sousuke’ waist, and threw his hands back in the air when a quick change came in the song. The crowd erupted with excitement around them, and Sousuke tried to avoid the jumping, drunken bodies that were dangerously close to knocking him over. He focused on Makoto, and forced himself to relax. Makoto took his hands and pulled them over their heads, and they punched the air to the beat, noses brushing. Sousuke couldn’t help joining Makoto’s laughter. They bounced awkwardly, fingers clasped, their bodies bumping. The world turned into a rush of color, and Sousuke was lost in that laughing, perfect smile, in that bell-like voice that was heard even over the roar of the club. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but a weight on Sousuke’s shoulders was lifted, and he threw back his head and practically cackled, feeling younger and stupider than he had in a long time. The heat and the pounding music engulfed him. He felt light, like he was in danger of floating away. 

“There you go!” Makoto cried over the noise, his voice almost swallowed. He smiled at Sousuke with such sweet pride and happiness that Sousuke felt as if a sugar rush was taking over his body. “This is fun, isn’t it?” 

Another wave of noise erupted around them, interrupting any reply Sousuke might have had. Not that he had, that is. All he could do was grin at Makoto stupidly, as if Makoto’s beauty had sucked away any clever thoughts or responses. A painful longing pressed against his chest. He stopped, and their arms dropped to their sides, fingers still clasped. Makoto blinked at him, perplexed. He tilted his head, panting a little. 

“Makoto.” 

“What?”

“I… I really like you,” Sousuke said, wincing, “I like you a lot.” 

Makoto blinked at him for a moment, before smiling apologetically and motioning to his ears. “Sorry, I can’t hear you! What was that, Sousuke?” 

“I really like you,” Sousuke repeated himself, louder. 

“Huh?” Makoto leaned closer. “Sorry, what?” 

Frustration was beginning to claw at Sousuke. “I really like you, Makoto!” he shouted over the noise, right as another wave of sound rolled through the crowd. For a hopeful moment, Makoto looked like he understood, but his apologetic smile just deepened, his eyebrows coming together. 

“Sousuke, are you okay? I can’t hear you!” 

“Forget it,” Sousuke shouted, frowning. 

So much for a meaningful moment…

“No, what did you want to say?” Makoto asked, leaning closer still. Their noses brushed, and their eyes locked. The world seemed to slow around them, as Sousuke tasted the alcohol on Makoto’s breath, smelled the sweat from his body. They were so close… So close, in the middle of this churning mass of heat and excitement. Sousuke felt Makoto tense against him, and he must have noticed as well, because his already-flushed cheeks burned brighter. They shared a shallow, panting breath, caught up in each other’s closeness, their eyes never leaving from where they were locked. Sousuke studied that handsome green gaze. The gaze that had been so excited to see him, that had looked at him with such softness and consideration… That ferny gaze that had lit with determination to swim with him again. 

He gave a sharp exhale, and Makoto started at the sudden breath. He smiled nervously, his fingers curling tighter into Sousuke’s. 

“What were you going to say?” he mumbled. 

“I… I can’t remember…” Sousuke said, prompting an exasperated sigh from Makoto. 

“Well, the song’s over. You don’t have to dance anymore, if you don’t want t-mmf!”

Sousuke hadn’t been able to handle it any longer. He closed the space between them, planting a firm kiss on Makoto’s mouth. The world, previously frozen, seemed to start up again, a roaring carousel of colors and movements and voices. Another song began, and the crowd began bouncing and jostling around them, but it hardly mattered.   
All that mattered was Makoto’s lips on his. 

Utter relief swept over him as he felt Makoto begin to tentatively kiss him back. It was sloppy, sweaty, and hot, but Sousuke’s entire body shivered with joy as Makoto’s lips laced with his in a drunken dance, shy at first, and steadily growing more impatient and passionate. This kiss was so much rougher, (and wetter,) than the one they had shared in Makoto’s dorm, and included a lot more action with hands. Makoto’s fingers tore from Sousuke’s to snake around his middle and cling to his shirt, pulling him closer still. His heart beating a million kilometers an hour, Sousuke fumbled to rest his hands on Makoto’s waist and the pockets of his pants, stumbling as the people around them danced spastically. 

Makoto tasted of alcohol. That wasn’t a huge surprise, considering where they were, but Sousuke was a little taken aback by how strange it felt, to be kissing Makoto and tasting the aftermath of beer. But Sousuke found that he didn’t mind that much. 

Because he was kissing Tachibana Makoto. 

Sousuke was too overjoyed with this latest occurrence to even wonder if Makoto meant to kiss him back. There was always the chance that he was just a little too drunk to pull away… But that was hardly what Sousuke should’ve been worrying about. He was too busy sticking his tongue down the throat of one of the only people he had ever befriended so quickly. 

Or developed such a hopeless crush on, so quickly… 

“Shit,” a familiar voice cut them off, and they tore their mouths away with wide eyes. A string of saliva hung between their lips, and Makoto let out an embarrassed yelp, quickly swatting it away. Kisumi, the owner of the voice who had spoken, gawked up at them. He was joined by a couple of wide-eyed girls, their cherry-lipglossed mouths parted in pleasant awe. One of them fumbled for her phone to snap a picture. Kisumi burst into hysteric giggles, his cheeks flushed with alcohol and excitement. 

“Dude, this is so hot,” he said, reaching for his own phone. Makoto leaped away from Sousuke as if he had suddenly been burned, his face turning as bright as the neon lights. Sousuke felt his own face pinken, and he tried his best to hide his embarrassment with a glower that could start the next ice age. Kisumi pouted at him, bouncing on his heels as he held up his phone. “No, no, go back to what you were doing! Don’t mind me, I’m just making a little something to send to Rinrin and Haruka.” 

“K-Kisumi!” Makoto shrieked.

“What?” Kisumi blinked up at him innocently. He gestured between Sousuke and Makoto. “C’mon, get back at it! Seriously, this is so hot, we could become internet famous.” 

“Do you want to die, tonight?” Sousuke hissed, leaning forward to snatch the phone out of Kisumi’s hands. Kisumi let out a whine of protest, flapping his limbs frantically as Sousuke held it over his head with his longer arms. 

“Don’t be so stingy, Sou!” he cried, “I was just joking! You know I’d never post a video of you two making out, no matter how famous it would make me!” 

“Sousuke, give it back,” Makoto said, his shoulders slumping. A deep scarlet still dictated his face, and he wiped the remaining saliva of their kiss from his lips. Sousuke felt his expression soften. He sighed, and handed Kisumi back the phone, who snatched it back with a pout. 

“You’re mean, Sousuke,” Kisumi said. He nursed the phone as if it were a child. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right now, for making out with my sweet lil’ Mako-chan. He’s too pure for your wrinkled, ugly soul.” 

“I doubt you could kick my ass,” Sousuke growled, rolling his eyes. 

“S-Sousuke doesn’t have an ugly soul,” Makoto mumbled, his shy voice almost lost in the beat of the song. He cast Sousuke a tentative smile, which warmed Sousuke’s entire being like sunlight. He returned the smile somewhat dopily, the taste of Makoto’s mouth still fresh on his tongue. He felt the strong urge to sweep Makoto away and regain that taste, preferably when they were alone, and the mood could be regained… 

“You didn’t actually take a video, did you?” Makoto suddenly asked, his eyebrows coming together. 

“Nah. I wouldn’t do that,” Kisumi said, shrugging. 

“Don’t tell Haru,” Makoto blurted. 

“I won’t. But you can bet your ass that Rin is going to hear about this.” 

“He… already knows. Sort of,” Sousuke said, wincing. Makoto shot him a horrified look, before his eyes sparked with realization, and he smiled sheepishly. Sousuke recalled Rin mentioning the amount of texts he’d received from Makoto’s end on the matter…

“Sousuke?” Makoto moved closer, his voice barely audible over the music. He hesitated, before twining their fingers together. Sousuke’s heart pounded painfully in his chest at his hot touch. “Maybe we should… go somewhere else. To talk, that is.” 

“Ah. Right.” Sousuke tried not to agree too quickly. He pulled Makoto backward, ignoring Kisumi’s wails of distress. Makoto laughed and shot an apology over his shoulder. 

\---000---

“Mmf… Sou, wait,” Makoto mumbled against Sousuke’s mouth, pushing him away gently. 

“Hm?” Agitated, Sousuke moved closer against Makoto’s body. He pressed them both against the wall of the alley behind the club, arms on either side of Makoto’s hair, leaning hungrily to kiss Makoto’s neck. Makoto let out a ragged sigh, his pulse quickening beneath Sousuke’s tongue as he slurped at the soft, hot skin. He moved Makoto’s shirt collar out of the way to get a better angle. 

“S-Sousuke… We haven’t even been on a date yet.” 

“Mm.” 

“We haven’t even been on a date yet, and you’re sucking on my neck.” 

“Mmmm.” Sousuke purred in agreement, nipping softly at Makoto's skin.

Makoto sighed. “Don’t leave a mark, okay? I’m meeting up with Haru tomorrow.” 

“...Maybe I will leave a mark,” Sousuke said against his throat, smiling at the thought of the shock on Nanase’s stony face. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto groaned. He clutched his shirt tighter. “Please don’t.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m careful.” Sousuke purred the words, nuzzling Makoto and practically melting into his warmth. He wanted to hold Makoto forever, wanted to drown in his scent and touch and smile. Maybe he could, now. If he didn’t screw this all up, that is. 

“C’mere,” Makoto whispered, shifting and leading Sousuke’s face up to his. Their lips met, sticky and sweet, and Sousuke felt Makoto’s hands tease his sides, fingers peeking underneath his shirt. He huffed against Makoto’s mouth. Their teeth clacked against each other’s, their tongues playing thickly. Sousuke shivered with pleasure as Makoto’s thumbs brushed over his stomach. His fingers curled against his abdomen, and Makoto smiled against his mouth, his chest vibrating slightly with a chuckle. Sousuke drew away. 

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no. You’re just…” Makoto grinned up at him, his eyes softening with affection. Sousuke’s heart hammered excitedly. Makoto must’ve looked at him a thousand times before with those eyes… but never like this. Not when they were so close, not when their lips were still warm from the other’s. Never had Sousuke been so warmed by the utter adoration in those eyes. It made his knees weak, and his stomach do nervous, exhilarated flips. The sweet tug of Makoto’s mouth only made the butterflies in his insides worse. “You’re very beautiful, Yamazaki Sousuke. When you kiss me… It’s like I’m drowning in summer waters. And your eyes have always reminded me so much of a caribbean ocean...” 

“D-don’t say stuff like that,” Sousuke growled, feeling his face flush. He was thankful for the dim light of the alley. Makoto blinked at him in surprised distress. 

“Why not?” 

“Because. You’re more poetic than I am, and you just make me look bad.”

Makoto cracked an adorable smile. “Aw, Sousuke…” 

“Shut up,” Sousuke growled, cutting him off with a rough kiss. Makoto grinned helplessly against his mouth, stopping Sousuke from leading the kiss into something hotter. He pulled back and sighed. “Makoto, you have to work with me, here. I’m trying to be sexy.” 

“You are!” Makoto said. His smile broadened. “It’s just all very exciting. I’ve never done something like this before. And I certainly didn’t expect to do it with you.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows in mock horror. “You mean you’ve never made out with a friend outside of a sleazy dance club? You truly are a dishonor to your family name, Tachibana.” 

“Oh, be quiet,” Makoto said, laughing. He leaned forward to press his lips against Sousuke’s. A chaste kiss, limited to the brush of their fevered lips. Sousuke closed his eyes and sighed. He pressed them up tighter against the wall, hands moving up to cup Makoto’s face gently. They broke apart a sliver, and leaned their foreheads together. Makoto’s breath stirred against Sousuke’s bottom lip, and he smiled. 

“Y-Yamazaki Sousuke, would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow?” 

Sousuke pretended to pout thoughtfully. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“Rude,” Makoto accused, lightly punching Sousuke in the chest. Sousuke laughed, and pressed himself harder against Makoto, leaning hungrily in for another kiss. Makoto met him with an open mouth, a pleased, low rumble catching in his throat. 

This was not what Sousuke had expected of the night, but he certainly wasn't complaining.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so... This chapter is pretty nsfw. There's no sex, or anything, (I'm awful with that stuff tbh ^^;) But there's some pretty heated making out and some groping of da butts, so. Yah. Read at your own risk, I guess??? I honestly wasn't planning for such a heated chapter but it might of sort of happened and I liked it so *shrug* It's not all kissing, tho, there's a good amount of dialog... Crap I really am so bad with hotter stuff. I'm a fluff-writer at heart...
> 
> Who am I kidding this is pretty much fluff with hot-sauce poured over it. 
> 
> Oh there's also a lil Mako POV!!! Another thing I didn't plan but sorta liked!!! :D

For someone so concerned with first dates and the rules that followed, it didn’t take much encouragement at all for Makoto to hastily agree to hurry back to the dorms. 

Thankfully, Tanaka-kun wasn’t in Makoto’s dorm when they got back. 

Sousuke doubted he would’ve cared, though. It had been a struggle to keep his hands off of Makoto long enough to return back to campus, and speed-walking down the hallway had been like walking on embers. And, shockingly enough, Makoto seemed just as anxious to get home and into the safety of privacy as he was. 

Makoto bit his lip as he fumbled with the keys, which really didn’t help matters. Sousuke wanted to bite that lip for him. It seemed like an eternity before Makoto found the right key on the ring, and an eternity more as he struggled to unlock the door. His fingers shook with what Sousuke guessed to be from both anticipation and the cold, but Sousuke felt better about the former. He bounced on his heels, hands in his pockets as he watched the struggle, and immediately stopped when the lock finally clicked and the door opened. They exchanged a thrilled little look, as if they were little kids who’d just figured out how a lock works, and slipped inside hastily.

The moment Makoto’s door closed, Sousuke gently seized his hips and pressed him against the wall, already leading their mouths into a kiss. Makoto didn’t get a chance to so much as flip the light on. Electricity flew through Sousuke’s body, energizing every fiber of him, as Makoto kissed him back with vigor. They were both easily sucked into the dizzy bliss of kissing in a matter of moments, mouths hungry and hands eager. 

Sousuke’s head swam with fuzzy happiness as he touched his fingers underneath Makoto’s shirt, skirting the hot, soft skin he’d been wanting to touch for months. He fell in love with massaging his thumbs over the elegant curve of Makoto’s hip bone, teasing his jeans and prompting soft, heated hums against his mouth. The sounds filled his body as if sunlight was being poured down his throat. It was all he could do not to moan loudly in response. 

“Sousuke…” Makoto huffed, breaking their mouths away for a moment. Kisses still dwindled between them, but Makoto managed to pull away enough to get a couple words in. “Sousuke… I really… I really like you, too. I didn’t tell you that, back at the club…” 

“I know,” Sousuke purred softly. He brushed their lips together, marvelling at how soft and warm Makoto’s mouth was. And he tasted so sweet… Sousuke had never really been one for sweet things to begin with, but he was pretty damn sure that no candy he’d ever tasted compared to Makoto. 

“No, wait.” Makoto pushed him back a little, forcing their eyes to meet. His green gaze was fuzzy with heat and kissing. “This is all so… sudden, I guess. I didn’t realize I had feelings for you until you kissed me, back when Kisumi asked me out. And I was just so surprised, and I wasn’t sure what to think, and all I wanted to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to make it any more uncomfortable than it already was. So, I guess I’m sorry, about that. For not…” 

He didn’t finish. Sousuke didn’t let him finish. He pressed them both tighter against the wall, and kissed Makoto again, guiding both of their mouths open wide enough so that their tongues could play thickly. Makoto purred, not bothering to continue what he had been saying. He seemed to figure that Sousuke understood. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Sousuke whispered, breaking away to trail his wet lips across Makoto’s jaw. Makoto seemed to wither at his touch, his entire body relaxing.

“...How long?” he asked. Sousuke brushed his teeth softly over Makoto’s skin, making him shiver. He couldn’t help a smile. He was learning very quickly how expressive Makoto could be with his reactions. 

“Since the first moment I saw you, really. I just didn’t know it.” 

“...And when did you know it?” 

Sousuke broke away in the slightest and straightened, so their eyes could meet. He licked his lips and regarded Makoto with lowered eyelashes, heat spreading through his body at the realization of how… real, this all was. Makoto was so warm, and alive, and heart-stoppingly beautiful. It was almost too much for Sousuke to comprehend. 

“I don’t know when I knew it,” he said honestly, his voice soft, “Maybe it was that first day, when those girls were hitting on you… I didn’t know much, but I did know that I didn’t want them to do that. Because I wanted to do that.” 

Makoto’s lips quirked up in that smile that never failed to make Sousuke’s vision dance with stars. “You wanted to flirt with me like they were?” 

“Well, not exactly…” Sousuke said with a wince. Makoto laughed a little, and Sousuke smiled. “I’d always been attracted to you, though. But I hadn’t thought that meant anything. Everybody finds you attractive.” 

Makoto’s smile froze on his face. He flushed red, his green eyes growing slightly panicked. “S-Sousuke… T-that’s not true.” 

“Nah, it really is,” Sousuke said honestly, “Even my roommate thinks your hot. And he’s the straightest guy I’ve ever met in my entire life.” 

“Stop…” Makoto detached himself fully from Sousuke to cover his blushing face. Sousuke couldn’t help an affectionate laugh. “Can we please just go back to kissing? Whenever you compliment me I get all nervous.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to know all the details of my little crush on you,” Sousuke pointed out. 

“Shhh.” Makoto clashed their lips together again, distracting Sousuke. He closed his eyes and hummed, parting his lips to allow Makoto to test the inside of his mouth. Makoto traced his teeth and curled their tongues together, their lips dipping and parting with the movement of the kiss. It all fell so naturally together, so effortlessly. Sousuke was drunk on how their lips and bodies touched in all the right ways, how they exchanged breath like the other was their only source of oxygen. He felt like he was in danger of wilting from the way Makoto was teasing his sides, fingers massaging beneath his shirt and drifting to the pockets of his jeans. He couldn’t suppress the pleased rumble in his throat as Makoto gently nipped his bottom lip, tugging and rolling it between his teeth. 

“Damn tease,” Sousuke growled. Makoto released him with a soft smile, parting his lips in an invitation for entry. Sousuke complied enthusiastically, angling his head to the side to better explore where his mouth ended and Makoto’s began. He brought his hands up to cup Makoto’s face, unable to stop a fond grin when he felt the warmth of Makoto’s cheeks. 

“Sousuke…” Makoto murmured against his mouth, his breathing shallow. His eyelashes fluttered, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward as Sousuke sucked lightly at his lip, breaking away before they could lock fully. He felt Makoto’s grip on his waist tighten, his heart thumping a little faster when Makoto’s finger inched lower. He let his lips drift to Makoto’s jaw, eagerly tracing the elegant angle and nipping softly at the warm skin. Makoto tilted his head, exposing his neck further, and hummed with pleasure as Sousuke’s mouth drifted to his throat. 

Makoto’s neck was a great place to kiss. It was very warm and seemed to be pretty sensitive, which was very enjoyable, because it meant Sousuke could easily prompt little huffs and moans. It was also pretty nice because, being the practical giant he was, kissing his partner’s neck had never exactly been easy in the past. If he had wanted to bother sucking on their neck, he would’ve needed to crouch down, and that was hardly comfortable. But Makoto was the perfect height for neck-nuzzles, (shorter, but ever so slightly,) and Sousuke found his mouth often returning to the comfortable, tender spot just below Makoto’s ear, where it was almost ridiculously effortless to bring one of the pleasant, breathy moans that he was quickly falling in love with. 

As he teased, Sousuke let his hands wander. His fingers slid down Makoto’s arms, thumbs brushing and marvelling at the lean muscle of his biceps. They moved to Makoto’s waist and tugged him closer, forcing their bodies to make contact almost completely. His hands roamed to the small of Makoto’s back, which he quickly discovered to be another key destination. If he pressed gently there, Makoto would hum and lean his stomach harder against Sousuke’s, which also happened to bring their crotches closer. And that was always a fun new turn of events. 

It was a pleasant surprise when Makoto was the first to pull an ass-grab. If Sousuke could even call it that. Makoto made it so gentle and comforting that the term ‘ass-grab’ was hardly the right description. It was more along the lines of a ‘tender booty pat,’ or a ‘friendly, sweet-hearted groping.’ It basically consisted of one of Makoto’s hands drifting to the back pockets of Sousuke’s jeans and squeezing gently. Sousuke couldn’t help but feel as if he were being groped by an angel of heavenly light. That’s what it felt like, at least.

“Is that okay?” Makoto mumbled after a moment, his voice low and unsure. 

“Hell yeah,” Sousuke replied against his throat, smirking in the slightest. Makoto relaxed a little at that, and gave another soft squeeze, which prompted a pleased huff that fell from Sousuke’s lips before he could stop it. Makoto grinned, his summer-green eyes glinting with what appeared to be triumph. “I never pictured you as an ass-man, Tachibana.”

“Mm, and here I thought I was being obvious,” Makoto said, his voice light and teasing. Sousuke couldn’t help a laugh. He hesitated, before letting his own hand curve over Makoto’s rear, pleasantly surprised at the… quantity, that greeted him. He returned the squeeze through Makoto’s jeans. 

“Mmf,” Makoto grunted, his mouth curling into a line, and his eyes taking on an almost sleepy, drunken look at Sousuke’s touch. He bit his lip and leaned his head back against the wall, a small smile on his face. Sousuke took that as an invitation to continue, and squeezed again, harder. A pleased sigh, almost a drawl, escaped from Makoto’s lips. Sousuke studied his face, very aware of how Makoto’s fingers were inching away from his ass and towards his front, brushing the crotch of his pants. 

Immediate desire coursed through Sousuke. He wanted to rip every inch of clothing from Makoto’s body. He wanted to touch and feel and taste everything that he had ever admired from a distance, and his fingers shook with the realization that he could very well do that. That Makoto would possibly encourage him to do that. 

“Makoto, you’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled, focusing on slipping Makoto’s shirt off.

“Sousuke…” Makoto mumbled, his voice almost a whine. He didn’t protest as Sousuke directed the white t-shirt over his head, his lips parted and swollen from the kissing. As soon as he was free from the horrible dictatorship of that damned shirt, he moved to lock mouths with Sousuke again, teeth slightly bared and lips parted. Sousuke kissed him back enthusiastically, every part of him tingling with satisfaction and hunger as his hands settled on Makoto’s bare hips. He felt Makoto push him back with two gentle hands on his chest, and suddenly they were on one of the beds, Makoto braced above him and leaning in to kiss at his neck. 

“Damn it, Tachi-” Sousuke was interrupted by his own low moan as Makoto nipped at the tender skin of his pulse, mouth hot and teeth gentle. He cupped the back of Makoto’s thighs and arched his spine to press their stomachs together, his head pounding with blood and alcohol. 

“You… taste… good,” Makoto purred between nips. His voice was warm and calm, a comforting drawl that was beginning to drive Sousuke absolutely crazy. The words curled through the quiet room like a hot summer breeze. “Like sunscreen and sweat.” 

“Shit, Makoto,” Sousuke hissed, his breath short. Damn Tachibana and that voice of his. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Makoto said, echoing Sousuke’s words with a soft smile. He sat up, his warmth leaving Sousuke’s neck, and slipped his hands up Sousuke’s black t-shirt. He guided it over Sousuke’s head with movement as fluid as water, that infuriatingly sweet/teasing smile still on his lips. Sousuke swallowed hard. Everything Makoto did or said went right to his dick, apparently. 

“Well, aren’t you pretty,” Makoto murmured as he took in Sousuke’s bare chest. His voice was low and teasing, almost raspy. As if he’d just finished singing a rock ballad. It turned Sousuke’s blood to fire, and made his heart skip. “How’d you get so handsome, Sousuke?”

“Makoto, please stop talking. I can’t handle your voice,” he growled, shifting. 

“Hm?” Makoto lifted his eyebrows as he discarded Sousuke’s shirt on the floor. “My voice?” 

“Yeah. It drives me out of my mind,” Sousuke replied honestly, scowling. 

This wasn’t the first time Makoto’s voice had gotten to him, either. On the rare occasions when they were in the dorm showers at the same time, (Makoto prefered to shower in the morning and Sousuke prefered at night,) Sousuke would catch the soulful, almost aggressive humming and half-growled lyrics from Makoto’s stall. The few times he’d heard it he’d pause and listen, cursing softly to himself as arousal made his skin hot. 

“I thought you didn’t like my voice,” Makoto said with a confused smile, “You tease me all the time about it.” 

“When have I teased you about your voice?” 

“When you’re being a grump, and you mimic me. I always thought it annoyed you.” 

“...It wasn’t your voice that annoyed me. It was what you were saying that annoyed me,” Sousuke said, “With all your lecturing and worrying.” 

Makoto winced. “Fair enough. You’re not the first person to tell me that.” 

“I know,” Sousuke said. He gave a teasing smirk. “Now shut up and go back to doing that thing with your mouth.” 

“Pushy,” Makoto huffed, but he smiled regardless and leaned down to kiss Sousuke again. Sousuke slipped his hands up from the back of Makoto’s calves to his ass, paused, and continued upward to stroke and explore the bare skin of his back. He let his fingers fall and outline every dip and angle. He marvelled at how muscle and bone could be so solid and sharp underneath such soft, almost velvety skin. He was almost worried that Makoto’s skin would tear from the strength of his toned body, as stupid as that sounded, but it rolled with the movement of his muscle without strain. It was enthralling. 

Makoto’s hands crept delicately across Sousuke’s chest, as if he were made of china. They smoothed across his pectorals and traced his nipples, thumbs teasing the sensitive skin and causing Sousuke’s breath to catch. One of his hands rested against Sousuke’s heart and pressed there, almost possessively, as if he were trying to hold Sousuke’s heart in his palm and listen to its ragged beating. 

“Sousuke…” he panted, when they parted for a moment to catch their breath. The sound went right to Sousuke’s crotch, just like everything else Makoto was doing with those hands and lips of his. Makoto bent his knees and brought their bodies closer, pretty much laying against Sousuke entirely. Sousuke shivered, despite the overwhelming, delicious heat that Makoto was supplying. He huffed as Makoto’s lips caressed his ear softly. When Makoto spoke, his voice was deep and almost gravelly. “Tell me if I’m too heavy.” 

“You’re not,” Sousuke murmured, closing his eyes as he caught his breath, “You’re pretty damn perfect.” 

He felt Makoto smile, and let out a low hum as Makoto gently nipped his earlobe. “I’m having fun, you know. This is really fun. I’m glad I’m doing it with you.” 

“Trust me, I am too,” Sousuke replied with a soft smirk. He bit his lip and held back a growl of absolute pleasure as Makoto began to move, brushing their overlapping bodies together, his hands positioned on either side of Sousuke’s ribcage. Sousuke’s own hands fumbled down Makoto’s back and rested snugly against his ass. He kneaded through the fabric of Makoto’s jeans, enthralled by Makoto’s movements and the way he was breathing against his ear as if about to tell a secret. 

A thought came to him, and he stiffened, his fingers tense against Makoto’s back pockets. Makoto, being the literal mind-reader he was, slowed and lifted his head so their gazes met, their lips grazing ever so slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, green eyes incredibly bright in the low lights of the dorm, “If you’re worried about condoms and lube, I think the university supplies them with each room. And if they don’t, Tanaka-kun probably has something around here-” 

“No, it’s not that,” Sousuke said, although his stomach immediately began doing enthusiastic flips at the prospect of having… intercourse. (Ugh. Even thinking that word made him feel like he was back in middle-school sex ed. class.) He regarded Makoto curiously, his eyebrows drawn together. “I just… Why do I get the feeling that you’ve done this, before? I thought you’ve never dated anyone.” 

Makoto winced, his cheeks flushing. “I… Haven’t. But, um, I guess I have done something like this, before.” 

“Seriously?” Sousuke asked. Makoto gave a tiny nod. 

“Y-yeah. I’ve never really dated, but I’m not exactly a virgin, either…? Well, I guess I am in some technical aspects.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sousuke muttered. Makoto offered a hopeless, unnerved smile. 

“I’ve never had sex with a guy. But… I’ve slept with a girl. Once.” he admitted, shifting a little on top of Sousuke. He said it as if it were something unforgivable, or as if the cops were waiting to bust the door down and take him away at any possible moment. Sousuke lifted his eyebrows in alarm. Makoto caught his look and flinched. “D-don’t look at me like that!”

“Sorry. I just never expected you to be the person to have a one-night stand.” 

“It wasn’t really…” Makoto huffed, his face as red as a stoplight, even in the darkness. “It’s not like I didn’t know her at all, or anything. We were friends in high school. Sort of. We weren’t all that close, but I trusted her, and she trusted me, so…” He shrugged. “It was kinda an accident, as awful as that sounds. We were both pretty embarrassed afterward, and neither of us really wanted to date, so we more or less just went back to being friends and didn’t talk about it.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, I guess. I don’t like to think about it, because it was really, really awkward. I shudder whenever it crosses my mind.” 

“...Does anybody know?” Sousuke asked, lifting an eyebrow. He couldn’t imagine Makoto being one to be very vocal about his sex life. 

“Only Haru and Gou-chan, I think.”

“Gou?” Sousuke echoed, “Why Gou? She’s not as close to you as Nanase is.” 

“No. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really close to Gou, but I wasn’t the one to tell her,” Makoto muttered, looking away, “She was really close to the girl.”

“...Wait, did you sleep with Chigusa Hanamura?” Sousuke asked, scowling thoughtfully as he recalled the short brunette that was Gou’s apparent best friend. 

“D-do you know her?” Makoto started, a look of panic in his eyes. 

“Yeah. We went to the same middle-school,” Sousuke said. He couldn’t suppress a laugh, despite the gnawing jealousy in his stomach he always got when he thought about Makoto with anybody else. “Well, she’s pretty cute, I guess, and it’s cool that you stayed friends. And there have been much suckier first times, believe me.” 

“You say that as if you have experience,” Makoto said, his voice catching with curiosity. 

Sousuke couldn’t suppress a wince. “Look, Makoto, I’m not going to lie. I’ve had my fair share of…” He paused, trying to think of a more sensitive way of putting it. Coming up short, he gave in with a shrug. “Sex. I’ve had my fair share of sex. Before moving to Iwatobi, I was always frustrated and annoyed, and pretty much did everything I could think of to make myself feel better. And, being a hormonal little bitch, dated around. Like, a lot. So it’s pretty safe to say that I’ve been in a lot of sexually awkward situations, before.” 

“Oh.” Makoto blinked at him, his green eyes as luminescent and blank as a cat’s. A small, teasing smile came across his face. “Care to share? I won’t laugh, I promise.” 

Sousuke scowled. “Not a chance. And I doubt you want to listen to any of my sexcapades.” 

“You’re right, I probably don’t,” Makoto said with a chuckle. He watched Sousuke openly and affectionately, making Sousuke’s stomach writhe in a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. He gently nuzzled his nose with Sousuke’s, breath warm on Sousuke’s lips. Sousuke closed his eyes and sighed. He tilted his chin up and lazily met Makoto’s mouth. They kissed softly, slowly, sharing tentative breaths and touches of their tongues. Sousuke became lost in Makoto’s warmth, his touch, his everything. He wanted to kiss and touch him until there was nothing left between them to comprehend or distinguish. 

“Sou…” Makoto breathed, drawing away. Damn, was it sexy when he called Sousuke that. His mouth moved steadily down, his lips lighting white-hot fire on Sousuke’s skin as he shifted back to touch and trace Sousuke’s stomach, his nose nuzzling the crevices of Sousuke’s abdomen.

“Makoto, I...” Sousuke began, his voice throaty and practically desperate. He sat up on his elbows and grabbed Makoto’s wrists, ready to flip positions and put an end to the teasing, but Makoto stopped him with a cool look, a smile on his lips. 

“Just let me appreciate you, for a second,” he said sweetly. Sousuke bit back a guttural growl. His pants felt much too tight for comfort, especially when Makoto’s mouth was slowly making its way further and further down. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” he huffed, fingers curling in the blanket of Makoto’s bed. His body shook with the effort to stay still, to let Makoto touch him, instead of snapping up and barrelling Makoto over. 

That was much easier said than done. 

The way Makoto was kissing his stomach, as if he were an ember that would burn him if he pressed too hard… The way Makoto’s fingers were fiddling with his belt buckle in a teasing conversation of yanking and tugging… And the way Makoto would meet his eyes between kisses to the spot just below Sousuke’s navel, his green gaze much too innocent for what he was doing… 

Makoto suddenly stopped, his lips pursed just above the metal of Sousuke’s belt buckle. He seemed to realize what he was doing, where his mouth was going. He sat up and considered Sousuke’s jeans hesitantly, as if realizing just how far it had gone. Just how close they were to being completely exposed to each other, both literally and figuratively. Moonlight pooling into the room from the window caught the angles of his chest and face and turned him silver. Sousuke met his gaze evenly when it finally lifted, his chest heaving. 

“...What?” he said, almost afraid to ask. 

“It’s late. Maybe we should go to sleep,” Makoto murmured. 

Sousuke scoffed. “You’re kidding, right?” He motioned to the obvious tent in his pants. “You’re going to cause this and then tell me it’s bedtime? That is a whole new level of cruel, Tachibana.” 

“Y-you think I’m any better?” Makoto asked with a nervous laugh, his face flushing. He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, okay? I just…” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I’m tired.” 

“...Oh.” Sousuke sat up. He hesitated, before taking Makoto’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs over Makoto’s cheeks. Makoto met his eyes sheepishly. And suddenly, they were back to how things had been just earlier that day: two good friends with awkward sexual tensions and warm smiles. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” Makoto said again, “It’s just… This is different. This is really, really new. And it’s with you. And I never expected I’d want to, erm, do something like this… To you. W-with you, I mean. And you’re a guy, and I’m a guy, and that’s really new, too.” His shoulders slumped, and his face flushed pink. “I want to m-make you feel good. But I’m also kinda confused, with a lot of things…? Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Sousuke said. He brought Makoto’s face close enough to brush their lips together. “Like you said earlier, we haven’t even been on a date, yet. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“...I kinda feel like I do, after all that,” Makoto said with a short, nervous laugh. He groaned and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “So much is going on in my head right now. But also nothing is going on in my head. I’m confused, but I’m also… not? Hmph.” He glanced down anxiously at Sousuke’s jeans and winced. “Do you, um, need to take care of that?” 

“It’ll go away,” Sousuke said dismissively, although he doubted it would anytime soon, what with the half-naked, very sexy guy sitting in front of him, looking as if he could be the greek god of beauty. “What about you? You good?” 

“I m-might go take a shower and take care of some stuff,” Makoto said with a soft blush. He stood, stumbling a little in the darkness, and Sousuke watched with a faint, hypnotised smile as the moonlight played with the plains of his back. Makoto fumbled to his dresser and retrieved a towel and shampoo. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the floor of the room, lips pursed. “Where’d my shirt go?” 

“Here, just wear mine,” Sousuke said. He rolled over and plucked his band t-shirt from the floor, tossing it to Makoto. Despite the darkness, Makoto caught it with one hand, smiled a smile that could light up the whole room, and slipped it over his head. It fit a little loosely on his thinner, narrow frame, but otherwise he could’ve owned it himself.   
“Thanks. Stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a minute,” he said. He slipped to the side of the bed and fumbled for Sousuke’s face, before leaning down to kiss him lightly. Sousuke closed his eyes to savor it, and tried to trample down the hungry beast in his chest that wanted to grab Makoto again and hold him so close that they melted into one another. 

“I take it I’m spending the night here, then?” Sousuke asked, once they separated. 

“If you want to.”

“I want to.” 

“Okay,” Makoto said with a sleepy smile. He kissed Sousuke again and moved away, towel and shampoo under one arm. “I’ll just be a second.” 

The door opened, momentarily letting in the yellow stream of light from the hallway, before Makoto slipped out and left Sousuke in pleasant darkness again. Sighing, Sousuke laid down and settled into Makoto’s blankets, a smile on his lips. 

What a crazy night. 

\---000--- 

When Makoto came back, Sousuke was asleep, sprawled out on his back and snoring softly. Makoto couldn’t suppress a warm smile at the sound as he closed the door behind him, one hand rubbing the towel over his head. Sousuke’s snores had been annoying at first, when Makoto had first started waking him up for jogs, but now he kind of liked them. They were low and gravelly, and seemed to shake the room. Makoto had mentioned it to Rin, and the two had joked that Sousuke was three times as loud asleep as he was awake. 

Makoto sighed, rubbing the last bit of drops from his hair and ignoring its cold dampness. It had been a very eventful night, to say the least. Makoto certainly hadn’t expected any sort of romantic confrontation, much less making out behind a bar and then coming home to get dangerously close to sex. With Sousuke, to top it all off.   
And just to add to the crazy, they had a date tomorrow. Makoto had a date with Yamazaki Sousuke. Yamazaki Sousuke, the tall, dark, and handsome guy who wasn’t as figuratively dark as everyone made him out to be. It almost seemed like a dream… A very confusing dream. 

If he was completely honest with himself, Makoto was still in shock. Sousuke had been a great friend over the last couple of months, but Makoto had never considered they’d be anything beyond that. Although Makoto would never have denied how attractive Sousuke was, (or how intriguing he was, funny he was, intelligent he was, etc.) Makoto would’ve never imagined that Sousuke liked him. Him, the awkward, easily-flustered guy who babbled about nothing and wore dorky basketball shorts and t-shirts with cats and clouds on them. But Sousuke apparently did, since he’d initiated both of their first kisses. And Makoto wasn’t complaining. 

He still couldn’t get over the things Sousuke could do to him in such a short time. Makoto immediately fell in love with the way Sousuke moved so slowly, so teasingly, as if he were trying to savor every little second of Makoto’s company. He was enthralled by that sexy smirk that made his stomach do excited flips, and the way Sousuke would look at him through half-lowered eyelashes, his chin tilted up proudly. And that body… Sousuke could be a model, if he wanted to. Or an American football player. He was the epitome of a competitive swimmer, with his narrow hips, broad back and shoulders, and toned stomach and legs. He was fantastic. 

Makoto smiled, a little annoyed with himself. Going on about Sousuke’s muscles like that… It made him sound like Gou-chan. 

Sighing, Makoto quickly pulled off his clothes and rustled through his drawers for his usual pajamas. He retrieved his basketball shorts and slipped those on, but couldn’t for the life of him find the oversized, orange-and-yellow t-shirt he usually slept in. He must’ve left it at Haru’s. 

Makoto hesitated, but, with a small smile, slipped Sousuke’s shirt back over his head. He held the collar to his nose and sniffed: sweat, alcohol, and the undeniable scent of Sousuke. Perfect. 

He peeled the blankets of his bed back from under Sousuke’s legs and pulled them over, covering Sousuke’s bare back up to the shoulder blades. Yawning, he got in at his side and nestled in close. 

“Sou…” he whispered, almost reverently. The single syllable was strange in his mouth, and he let it hang in the air as he traced Sousuke’s sleeping face with finger. A smile tugged at his lips at the warmth of Sousuke’s cheekbones. Sousuke looked surprising innocent when he slept, with his usually scowling features limp and softened. The moonlight played with the ends of his dark hair, making it look as if he had a halo. 

Grinning, Makoto snuggled up close to him and closed his eyes. He placed a general kiss on the heated surface of Sousuke’s bad shoulder before letting his mind wander and drift away to the fuzziness of sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru finds out, and Sousuke is clingy.
> 
> This is a much longer chapter than I anticipated... ^^;

Being kissed awake was not as pleasant as Sousuke had anticipated. 

Makoto probably meant to be sweet by touching their lips together so early in the morning, but Sousuke wasn’t very comfortable with his first thought upon consciousness being: ‘who the hell is kissing me right now and do the they want to die today.’ 

For a terrifying moment, he thought it was Fujioka. That was the first explanation his sleepy mind had to offer. But that couldn’t be right. Fujioka was the straightest person alive. Maybe he was drunk…? 

It took an embarrassingly long time for him to realize it was Makoto. Utter relief swept through him, and through the haze of sleep he managed to kiss him back, eyes still closed. 

“Mm, so you’re awake. Morning, Sleepy Beauty,” Makoto murmured against his mouth. 

Sousuke cracked one eye open, and almost immediately regretted doing so. The brightness of Makoto’s smile and the sunlight coming through the window combined was pretty blinding. He groaned and forced both eyes open, blinking a couple times to rid the fuzziness from his gaze. Makoto beamed down at him, his head tilted slightly and his eyelashes lowered. 

“Kiss me again. I think I’m still dreaming,” Sousuke said, attempting to be romantic. But his voice was gruff and crackly from sleep, so it was more of a growl than a tangible sentence. Makoto seemed to understand, however, because his grin widened and his cheeks flushed. He leaned down to kiss Sousuke again, one hand securely over Sousuke’s heart, fingers massaging the bare skin of his chest. Sousuke lifted one arm to cup the back of Makoto’s neck, keeping him there and giving Sousuke a chance to kiss him deeper. 

Sharp desire replaced the sleepy blur occupying Sousuke’s mind. He looped his other arm around Makoto’s waist and pulled him closer, their legs tangling further in the blankets. Makoto sat up and threw one leg over Sousuke’s hips, before bending down again to cup his face and lace their lips again. He pulled away before Sousuke could fully slip his tongue in, which was very infuriating. Sousuke could even feel him smiling. That little shit. 

“It’s too early for this, Sousuke,” Makoto chuckled when Sousuke attempted to remove his shirt. 

“You’re the one who woke me up,” he growled. 

“I woke you up so we could go jogging. It’s later than we usually go, but it’s also Saturday, so-”

“No. I refuse.” 

Makoto shoulders slumped. “Sousuke, c’mon. You didn’t do your stretches last night, either. And I don’t even want to know the last time you went to the gym-” 

“I’ve been going to the gym. An hour and a half, everyday,” Sousuke interrupted with a frown. He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Makoto. I’m not completely hopeless.” 

“I know, I know. Sorry. I just worry about you keeping a good schedule,” Makoto said gently. Sousuke couldn’t help but relax at his reassuring tone. “You know you have a habit of not running enough and lifting too much. You’ve got to balance the two, dummy.” 

“I’m not a dummy,” Sousuke said half-heartedly. He rubbed Makoto’s thighs, incredibly pleased with how they felt. Almost like thin velvet, draped over lean muscle. He wanted to feel that muscle move, feel the strength and snap that Makoto’s legs were clearly capable of. He wanted to see Makoto in the water, slicing through it as if the water bent at his whim, cowering under his dynamic stroke. And he very much wanted to return to the night before, when Makoto had uttered such delicious sounds that had made Sousuke’s stomach roll. He wanted nothing more than to taste and touch every fiber of Makoto’s being, until both of their voices were hoarse from whispering, (or screaming, to be perfectly honest,) each other’s names. 

“Sousuke? You’re looking at me weird,” Makoto said with a nervous laugh. Sousuke jolted. He released a sigh he wasn’t aware he had been holding.

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“What were you thinking about?” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a snort. He lifted his eyebrows and smirked. “Guess.”

It took too long for Makoto to catch on. He blinked down at Sousuke, perplexed, before realization flashed in his eyes and he jumped, as if someone had startled him from behind. Red sprung to his cheeks and he quickly glanced away, biting his lip and smiling anxiously. His fingers fumbled against Sousuke’s chest. 

“S-Sousuke…” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at Sousuke. Sousuke laughed and sat up. The movement caused Makoto to shift a little on his hips, and he slumped back into Sousuke’s lap, hands clutching at his chest to stay upright. Sousuke slipped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. 

“Why so flustered? You didn’t seem all that embarrassed last night,” he purred, feeling his smirk deepen, “I was under the impression that you were pretty comfortable with my feelings for you.” 

“Geez, Sousuke…” Makoto hesitantly met his eyes, one hand coming up to scratch his flushed cheek. “I-it’s different. It’s not exactly weird, but it’s disorienting. I can’t help but wonder if every time you looked at me like that you were thinking about…” He trailed off, his blush intensifying. 

Sousuke smiled. How Makoto could be so sexy and adorable at the same time was beyond him. 

“Why didn’t you say anything, sooner?” Makoto asked, once he had recovered somewhat. He studied Sousuke curiously, his eyebrows furrowed. “I mean… It’s been months. Last night you said that you’d liked me from the beginning, right? So why now?” 

Sousuke shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a coward. And you’re slightly intimidating, with your undying kindness and ability to break hearts in a matter of minutes.” 

Makoto scoffed, a hopeless smile coming to his face. “Wait, what? Since when do I break hearts, Sousuke?”

“Literally all the time. You just don’t realize it, which makes it worse.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Kagome, Hayashi, Sato, Ueda, Wakahisa, and that one girl with the mole by her eyebrow,” Sousuke said stiffly, counting them off on his fingers, “And that’s only to name the ones I know of. In our building. You’re ridiculously popular, so I’m sure there have been more.” 

“N-none of those girls have ever-” Makoto began, but stopped, his expression growing thoughtful. A look of panic crossed his face, and he looked at Sousuke with wide eyes. “Shit. Really?” 

Sousuke couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed. Makoto repeatedly punched his shoulder, face returning to the shade of a beet. His frantic protesting only made Sousuke laugh more. “Don’t laugh at me! How was I supposed to know? Sousuke!” 

“Hey, no punching,” Sousuke said, his shoulders shaking. He wiped a couple tears from his eyes and shook his head. “Damn, you’re oblivious.” 

“I-I’m not!” Makoto said, “And you’re one to talk! You’re just as bad as me. Probably worse! Girls are always asking for your phone number or flirting with you, but you always brush them off like they don’t exist. If anybody’s the heart-breaker, it’s you, Sousuke.” 

“And why do you think I brush them off?” Sousuke countered. Makoto winced and looked away, his ears as bright as his cheeks.

“That’s… That’s not fair,” he said weakly. 

Sousuke shrugged. “Life is rarely fair, Tachibana.” 

“That doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Makoto said, sighing. He wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck and kissed him without warning. Not that Sousuke was complaining. He placed his hands on Makoto’s warm hips and tilted his head into the heat of Makoto’s mouth: dry and soft and welcoming.

“Mmm. We should just stay here and make out all day,” Sousuke muttered when they parted, “And then at night, we can go out on that date that you promised me. And then make out some more.” 

Makoto laughed. “That sounds nice, but I’m seeing Haru for lunch, remember? And I promised Nobu-kun that I’d time his breastroke at four. I also have to tutor Ueda-chan in Japanese literature at six. And Kago-chan asked me to help her with the anatomy homework, too...” 

Sousuke scowled. “Curse you and your helpfulness. I want you all to myself.” 

“Well, why don’t you come to lunch with me and Haru?” Makoto offered, immediately perking up. He smiled as if the concept was some sort of miracle. “It’s been awhile since you two have talked, or anything. Maybe this would be a good chance for you to catch up. Or, you know… Start over?” 

Sousuke snorted. “No need to pretend like Nanase and I are best buds, Makoto. I think it’s pretty obvious that we’re not to fond of each other.” 

“You seemed friendly at the festival, when we played the survival game.” 

“The times were dire. And Rin was there. Nanase is ten times easier to stand when Rin is around,” Sousuke said honestly. 

“You don’t think I’d make it easier?” Makoto asked, tilting his head. He brought his eyebrows together. “I’m not asking for you to be best friends, or anything. But you two have so much in common, and I feel like you could get along if you tried. I was actually talking to Rin a couple days ago, and he said that he thought-”

“Look, when it comes down to it, I think Nanase and I are too similar in all the wrong ways,” Sousuke said with a sigh, “Too much shit has happened. I’ve said a lot of things to him that I regret, and a lot of things that I don’t regret at all. Most of the time I can’t even tell the difference.” 

“But don’t you want to try?”

“Not particularly.” 

Makoto frowned, his eyes flashing with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “You really are a hermit, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” Before Makoto could reply, Sousuke pressed their lips together again, showering Makoto’s mouth with quick pecks. Talking about Nanase was getting tiresome. 

“Please? One lunch-meet. It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise,” Makoto said, tilting his chin up and putting his lips out of Sousuke’s reach. Sousuke rolled his eyes and huffed. 

“Fine, fine. Just kiss me.”

“Sousuke…” Makoto muttered, but he didn’t seem all that bothered when Sousuke brought their mouths together again, almost possessively curling his fingers into Makoto’s soft hair and tugging at his waist until they were as close as physically possible. The fabric of Makoto’s shirt, (aka Sousuke’s shirt,) rubbed against Sousuke’s bare chest, and Sousuke very much wanted to be rid of it. 

As gently as he could, he pushed Makoto off of his lap and led him to lean back against the mattress, before climbing over him and joining their mouths again. Makoto smiled against his lips and snaked his arms around Sousuke’s neck. His warm fingers massaged the dip of Sousuke’s spine, causing Sousuke’s entire body to shiver with pleasure. Growling and grumbling about the damn effect Makoto had on him, he adjusted his position over Makoto and kissed him harder, desperate for the warmth of his tongue and lips. Maybe, if he were quick enough and sexy enough, they could regain the mood of last night before Makoto had to go on all of his shitty errands...

“Sousuke, hey,” Makoto mumbled against his mouth, gently pushing Sousuke up. Sousuke scowled, not incredibly pleased with the interruption, but Makoto’s curiously pleased look got the better of him, and he felt his glower fade. 

“Yeah?” 

“I just… Why so rushed?” Makoto said, with a soft laugh. His fingers cupped the back of Sousuke’s neck, thumbs teasing his hair. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” 

Sousuke tensed. He swallowed, and gave a tiny nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 

“You just seem sort of… hurried, or something. Like we’re saying goodbye. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, Makoto,” Sousuke said, a hopeless smile tugging at his lips. He shrugged one shoulder. “Guess this still doesn’t feel very real to me. I want to enjoy it.” 

Makoto grinned his heavenly grin, pink dusted over his cheeks. “Oh. Okay,” he said, voice light and breathy. He gave a soft laugh. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it not being real. I can assure you that it is. And, to be honest, it’s kind of hard for me to enjoy it we’re kissing as if we’re never going to see each other again.” 

Sousuke winced. “Sorry.” 

Makoto laughed again. He sat up and pressed a warm, chaste kiss to Sousuke’s cheek. “You’re fine. I kinda think it’s sweet.” 

Sousuke’s reply was a grunt. He turned to rub his nose with Makoto’s and closed his eyes, breathing in Makoto’s sweet, almost cinnamony scent. Makoto nuzzled him back. They sat like that for a few moments, foreheads leaning against each others, before Makoto let out a sigh through his nose and gently pushed Sousuke back. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and straightened. 

“Well, I’m going to try and jog. I guess you can have today off, but no more excuses by Monday,” he said, stretched his arms over his head. He smiled a heart breaker’s smile down at Sousuke, causing his heart to skip a beat. “Got it, mister?” 

“Got it, mister,” Sousuke echoed. He returned the smile to the best of his ability. 

“Alright, then. I’ll run by your dorm around noon to pick you up for lunch. Haru and I always meet at a noodle place downtown, so we’ll have to take a train.” Makoto spoke as he undressed, trading Sousuke’s band shirt for a black tank top and a hoodie. He slipped sneakers on and tied them. He glanced up at Sousuke. “That okay?”

“Mm.” 

“Great.” Makoto stood again, grabbed his keys from the dresser, and moved to the door. Sousuke slumped back against the bed and tilted his head to study those lovely basketball shorts. Makoto caught his gaze and flushed. He gave Sousuke a tiny salute of farewell before slipping through the door. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

“Bye,” Sousuke said. 

“Don’t eat any of my food, okay?” 

“Wait, you have food in here?” 

“Bye, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke scowled in frustration as the door clicked shut. 

\---000---

Makoto and Sousuke took a train to Nanase’s noodle shop at around 12:30, (they’d gotten distracted by each other’s lips and left late,) grudgingly sparing themselves from the gruelling walk through the city. Sousuke didn’t mind in the slightest, though. He found that he rather liked it when Makoto drifted off in the seat beside him, leaning against his shoulder and making those huffy little puppy snores. Sousuke spent the majority of the ride absently playing on his phone, glaring at people who stared too long, and sneaking gentle touches of fingers with a sleepy Makoto. 

They arrived twenty minutes after boarding, and Sousuke quickly shook Makoto awake to get off. His gaze fuzzy and his lips in a confused pout, Makoto stumbled off of the train with him, holding onto his sleeve and trailing after. It was ridiculously cute. Sousuke would’ve let him do that all the way to the restaurant if he wasn’t positive he’d get the both of them lost.

“Makoto, c’mon. Wake up some more. I’m just going to get us lost if you trust me with finding my way out of here,” Sousuke insisted, when they stopped to look at a map. He’d given up on trying to hide his horrible sense of direction from Makoto a long time ago. Not that it mattered. Makoto had already heard it from Rin, and he seemed to have learned pretty quickly, after the time that Sousuke had attempted to show him a restaurant by the national park and ended up getting them both hopelessly turned on their heads.  
Makoto rubbed his eyes and sighed. He blinked a couple times, forcing himself to focus. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, “Just follow me, okay?” 

“Mm.” 

Makoto stumbled a little, before taking the lead. He maneuvered them through the crowd on what seemed to be instinct, and the two found their way out of the train station. Without making sure that Sousuke was following, Makoto began walking down the bustling sidewalk. Sousuke jogged to keep up. The fear of being separated got the better of him, and he held Makoto’s hoodie and allowed himself to be tugged along, like a child. Makoto smiled warmly back at him and slowed his pace, to allow Sousuke to walk at his side. Shoulders brushing, they made their way through the city, before Makoto stopped before a small corner shop that read ‘Saikoro’ in yellow, swirling letters above the door. 

“C’mon, Haru’s probably already here,” Makoto said, holding the door open for Sousuke. 

“What a gentlemen,” Sousuke teased. He stepped into the warmth of the restaurant's heaters, and a bell above his head rang as Makoto closed the door behind them. 

“There’s Haru,” Makoto said, nodding to a small booth in the corner of the crowded restaurant. The place was packed with university-aged men and women, almost every seat occupied by a cramming student or a gossiping couple. Nanase sat primly in the booth Makoto had indicated, his sharp blues eyes trained intently on the menu in his hands.

“Haru!” Makoto called. He gently pinched Sousuke’s jacket and tugged him to the two empty seats opposite the professional swimmer, beaming. Nanase’s eyes looked up at his voice. A ghost of a smile crossed his face, before his gaze snapped onto Sousuke, and the expression froze. 

“Yamazaki,” he stated, a hint of unpleasant surprise in his cool voice. 

“Um, hey,” Sousuke grunted, holding up a hand in greeting. He stumbled a little as Makoto more or less shoved him into the booth and squished in beside him. He winced as Nanase’s gaze immediately went to where he and Makoto couldn’t help but touch. An uncomfortable sensation blossomed in Sousuke’s chest before he could stop it, and he resisted the urge to scowl at himself. 

Was he seriously getting nervous about this? It wasn’t like Nanase was Makoto’s mother, or anything. They didn’t need his permission to date. After all, Nanase was only Makoto’s friend. His best friend… Who he’d apparently grown up with, and told everything to, and always asked his opinion… 

Yeah. There totally wasn’t anything riding on this. 

“It’s been a while,” Nanase said, his voice stony. He seemed to have relaxed a little, as if he was recovering from Sousuke’s sudden appearance. “Makoto mentioned that you two go to the same university.” 

“Erm, yeah.” 

“He’s in the dorm just beneath mine. Small world, huh?” Makoto said, smiling, “I figured it was about time I invited him along, after all these months.”

Nanase frowned. He didn’t reply, but the message was clear: “This is our thing, Makoto. I don’t want him here.” Makoto gave no sign that he had understood the look, but Sousuke doubted that it had gone over his head. These two were practically psychic twins. 

“Here.” Makoto nudged his shoulder. He reached for a menu and opened it, holding it out for Sousuke to see. Sousuke tried to ignore the sharp look Nanase sent him when he leaned over to glance over the choices. “Haru and I come here every Saturday. I always try to get something different for the sake of branching out, but Haru’s pretty stubborn about ordering the egg-noodle ramen with mackerel every time.” Makoto laughed, and shook his head. “The poor employees have gotten in the habit of keeping a dish out for him so they don’t have to go get it from the back.” 

“Mm.” Sousuke and Nanase both gave a short hum at the same time, started, and exchanged an irritated look with each other. Makoto glanced between them with a fond smile, and Sousuke could practically feel the satisfaction coming off of him in waves. 

Nanase must’ve sensed it, too. He took a sip of his water and glanced out the window, annoyed. “No need to look so smug, Makoto.” 

“Sorry.” Makoto looked back to the menu, obviously trying to hide his triumphant smile. “See anything you like, Sousuke?” 

“Um, I don’t know. What’s good?” 

“Well, I like the Setagaya ramen… And the Ganja Dry ramen is really good, too.” Makoto paused, his lips pursing. “You like pork though, right? So you’d probably like the Kichijoji.” He pointed to the picture beside the description, and Sousuke’s mouth immediately began to water. Golden broth, egg-noodles, and well-cooked strips of honeyed pork, all in one bowl. It was almost too much for his college-deadened mind to comprehend. 

“Yes. That one.” 

Makoto beamed. “Great!” He motioned for a waiter, and a frazzled-looking girl in a black apron came to take their orders. Makoto ordered for all three of them. A glass of water was placed shakily in front of Sousuke, the contents nearly spilling down the front of his shirt as the waitress blushed and snuck glances at Makoto. Makoto, as oblivious as ever, complimented her on her glasses, which only made the blush worse. She hurried away before Makoto could utter another word. 

Sousuke swallowed at the familiar jab of jealousy in his stomach.

“Hm. She seems a little nervous,” Makoto said, blinking after her. His eyebrows came together in concern, and he glanced at Sousuke and Haru. “You don’t think she was intimidated by us, do you?” 

“Oh, Gods,” Nanase rolled his eyes as he took another sip of his water. He obviously was no stranger to Makoto’s oblivious nature. Makoto just blinked at him.

“Makoto, you’re doing it again,” Sousuke said. He snatched a couple napkins from the silver dispenser to wipe up the water the waitress had spilled. 

“What? What am I doing?” 

“You’re breaking hearts without realizing it.” 

A panicked look immediately crossed Makoto’s face. His cheeks turned pink. “N-no! I was just-” 

“She was shaking like a leaf. Look, she got water all over the place,” Sousuke huffed, scowling, “Honestly, could you stop batting your luscious eyelashes at people for five minutes? I can’t go anywhere with you.” 

“B-batting my what?” 

Nanase snorted into his cup, and he seemed to be fighting a chuckle. He set his water down and glanced at Sousuke, his eyes a little less sharp. “Get used to it, Yamazaki. It’s his best weapon of manipulation. He just doesn’t know when he’s using it or not.” 

“Haru…” Makoto full-on whined, his shoulders slumping. His cheeks remained stubbornly rosy. If Nanase hadn’t been sitting right across from them, Sousuke wouldn’t have hesitated to kiss those cheeks until Makoto giggled. 

“Trust me, I’m no stranger to his manipulation skills,” Sousuke said, waving his hand dismissively, “He somehow gets me out of bed every morning to run until my legs give out, and don’t get me started on his ability to actually make me do class work.” 

“That sounds like him,” Nanase said. His voice was flat and cool, as usual, but the tiniest flicker of amusement shone in his eyes. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have invited you today if I knew you two were going to gang up on me,” Makoto said, but Sousuke didn’t miss the utter joy in his gaze as he looked from Sousuke to Nanase and back again. Sousuke probably would’ve been annoyed, if Makoto wasn’t so damn adorable. And sexy. And so painfully beautiful in the orange light of the restaurant, with his eyes turning almost amber and strands of his hair looking like strings of gold. 

“Careful. He’s doing it to you, now,” Nanase said, and Sousuke could’ve sworn he was attempting to tease. 

Sousuke feigned horror, leaning away from Makoto as if he were in danger of catching a deadly disease. That prompted an actual ghost of a smile from Nanase, and a punch to the shoulder from Makoto. Sousuke couldn’t help a grin as Makoto complained, his cheeks pink. Their fingers found each other underneath the table, and Sousuke gave the tiniest of squeezes. 

This was, admittedly, better than he thought it would be. 

\---000---

Makoto led their conversations like a champ. He laughed, spoke, and interrupted at all the right times. This definitely wasn’t his first time carrying Nanase’s weight through chatting. By the time their food was placed in front of them, Sousuke and Nanase had only snapped at each other on occasion, which was an incredible improvement to their past encounters. 

They ate mostly in silence, as Makoto had a habit of focusing all of his possible attention on food when it was placed in front of him. The amount of noodles that guy could consume in such a short time was really uncanny. He ate politely, but quickly, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks and was barely keeping himself from lifting the bowl to his lips and dunking his face into the broth. It was pretty entertaining. Sousuke’s heart thumped with affection as he snuck glances at Makoto out of the corner of his eye, and hid his smirk behind chopsticks and his drink. 

Nanase was a pretty fast eater, too. He was no Makoto, but his chopsticks dropped and lifted with deadly precision, immediately picking out the chunks of mackerel before anything else. It was only after he was satisfied that he’d cleaned off all the mackerel that he began on the noodles, and the vegetables after that. He was oddly organized about the whole situation. Sousuke wasn’t sure if he was fascinated or a little disgusted with his tidiness. It was only a damn bowl of noodles.

To nobody’s surprise, Sousuke was the last to finish. Makoto hovered over his bowl long after finishing his own, green eyes curious and chopsticks lifted. Sousuke sighed and slid the bowl over to him, (deciding to ignore the beautiful smile shot his way,) and the two finished off the Kichijoji. Nanase watched them with a bored expression, occasionally taking a sip of his water. 

“Mm, I’ll have to get that next time,” Makoto said, sitting back. He brought one knee up to his chest, one foot on the booth seat, and stuck a chopstick in his mouth. He smiled warmly around it and patted his stomach. “I really underestimate pork, you know.”

“Pork is a gift from the gods,” Sousuke said, half truthful and half teasing. 

“Mackerel is a gift from the gods,” Nanase corrected. His eyes flashed as if Sousuke had personally offended him. Damn weirdo. 

“I like green curry, myself,” Makoto said breezily, cutting off any possibility of a snappy retort. He laughed and brought his eyebrows together. “Ugh, I can’t think about more food, now. I’m stuffed.” 

“Really? With an appetite like yours, I would’ve thought you’d be able to eat a harbor full of boats,” Sousuke teased. 

“Rude.” Makoto punched Sousuke’s shoulder half-heartedly, a smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head. “How do you survive, Sousuke? You eat like a bird.” 

“That’s not true. Remember when we watched that One Punch Man marathon? I ate a whole pizza in one episode.” 

“Fine, then. You only eat like a normal person when the food is horrible for you.” 

“You think eating a whole pizza in one sitting is normal?” 

“...Isn’t it?” 

“Shit.” Sousuke shook his head, his shoulders shaking. “No wonder you’re so gigantic.” 

“I’m in better shape than you!” Makoto protested, cheeks and ears flushing pink, “And you’re bigger than me, anyway! Don’t you start with me, Sousuke, not when all you ever want to eat is crap-” 

“You’re the one with the constant sweet-tooth.” 

“That doesn’t mean-” Makoto shook his head hard, cutting himself off. He frowned at Sousuke, and Sousuke would’ve been ashamed of himself if Makoto didn’t look so damn beautiful with that slight pout on his stupidly perfect face. When Makoto spoke again, his voice was sweet and coaxing. “I’m not fighting with you about food now. We can talk about eating habits when we’re working out.” 

Sousuke smirked. “Again with the luscious eyelashes, Makoto?”

“Yamazaki Sousuke, if you say that one more time, I will beat you up. I will, I swear.” 

“Yeah, right. The most you could do is tickle me to death.” 

“That’s it. Your ass is mine, Yamazaki,” Makoto said in a strangely intimidating voice. He wriggled his fingers and lunged for Sousuke’s armpits, prompting a very unmanly yelp and a series of obscene curses. Biting back his laughter at Makoto’s tickling, Sousuke wrestled Makoto away by the wrists, and the two struggled, Makoto letting out short bursts of snickers. 

“Um.” A single, slightly irritated syllable froze them both, and Sousuke winced, only just recalling Nanase’s existence. He glanced at the seat opposite him, only to meet a very irked blue gaze that could be compared to the look of a protective parent. 

“A-ah. Sorry, Haru,” Makoto said, dropping his hands. Sousuke hesitated before releasing his wrists. He promptly returned the glare being thrown at him, the smile Makoto had brought to his face fading into a scowl. Makoto looked between the two of them anxiously, smiling. “Guess I got a little carried away.” 

“Whatever. You were drawing looks,” Nanase said with a shrug. 

“Oops.” Makoto flushed, sending an apologetic glance to the people around them, (most of them being students cramming for tests.) Sousuke felt his own face pinken and quickly looked away, bringing his drink to his lips and taking a slow drink.

“So, Yamazaki,” Nanase began. His index finger traced the rim of his own cup as he regarded Sousuke coldly. “I never realized you were gay.” 

Sousuke choked. He lowered the glass and spluttered into his hand, pounding his chest with the side of his fist. Makoto started, his ears immediately turning a bright red. 

“H-Haru!” he yelped. Flustered and blubbering incoherently, he patted Sousuke’s back, hands shaking as he fussed over him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sousuke managed. He coughed a couple more times into his hand and winced. He tried to summon a glower to shoot at Nanase, but it proved difficult, after nearly hacking one of his lungs up. “I’m… bisexual, actually. How did you-”

“You two are dating, right?” Nanase asked, motioning between the two of them. His expression remained neutral, almost unimpressed. Makoto’s shoulders slumped, as if he’d been expecting something like this to happen. 

“W-we haven’t been on a date, yet,” he said. He blushed and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, um… We were planning to go tonight, actually.” 

“Wait, wait, how the hell did you know?” Sousuke demanded. He narrowed his eyes at Nanase. “Did Rin say anything to you? Because if he did, I swear to-” 

“Oh, please. Makoto couldn’t keep anything from me if he tried,” Nanase said, rolling his eyes. He shrugged. “Rin might’ve also mentioned something about it, but I’d be an idiot not to at least suspect. After that riveting episode, there’s not a doubt left in my mind.” He looked to Makoto, something akin to hurt flashing in his eyes, despite his steely voice. “When were you planning on telling me?”

Makoto flinched. “I-it’s not like I’ve been keeping this from you, or anything. It was only last night that we, erm, more or less got together.”

“So you two have had sex.” 

“N-no! Haru, it was nothing like that!” Makoto said, his voice catching. Sousuke inwardly sighed. It had been exactly like that. More or less. Nanase didn’t seem to buy it, either. He narrowed his eyes and shot Sousuke a sharp glare. Sousuke couldn’t help but wince. 

“But you plan on having sex, right?” Nanase asked, and Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never been asked a more loaded question. 

“And what makes that your business?” he growled. 

“Excuse me for wondering if my best friend is sleeping with somebody I’ve always considered an asshole.” 

“What kind of shitty excuse is that? Just because you’re best friends with somebody doesn’t mean you have to know every detail of their sex life. And I’m not exactly too hot on you, either. If Makoto and I have sex, then-” 

“Please, stop saying that word,” Makoto groaned, covering his face with his hands. He slumped back against the booth seat, his ears bright red. “If I hear that word one more time from either of you, I’m going to leave you here to pay for lunch. And I won’t even come back to save you from yourself, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke winced. The thought of being left alone downtown was definitely not appealing. “Fair enough.” 

Makoto peeked through his fingers at Nanase with a sigh. “Look, can we please talk about this later? I’ve got someplace to be at two, and I’m very, very uncomfortable right now.” 

Nanase hesitated, but gave a short nod. “Alright. I’ll call you after your date tonight, then.” He shot Sousuke a warning look. “If you’re not occupied, that is.” 

Sousuke set his jaw, incredibly annoyed. He opened his mouth to send a stinging reply, but Makoto’s warm hand on his arm stopped him. He grudgingly closed his mouth and huffed. 

“Fine,” he said, bringing out his wallet and rustling through it. “Nanase, do me a favor and call the waitress. I’m paying for my shit and getting Makoto back to wherever the hell he needs to be.” 

“That’s a little ironic, Yamazaki. Isn’t Makoto the one getting you back?” Nanase asked coolly, holding a hand up and motioning for a waiter to come. 

Sousuke scowled, very fed up with Nanase’s sass. “Shut up.” 

\---000---

“Yamazaki, wait,” Nanase called, jogging up to Makoto and Sousuke before they could turn the corner down the route to the train station. Sousuke slowed and narrowed his eyes. 

“What?” 

“Give me your phone. I’m giving you my number,” Nanase said, holding his hand out. 

“I’m flattered, Nanase, but I thought it was pretty clear that I’m going on a date with your be-”

“Shut up. I want you to call me if Makoto ever needs help,” Nanase said, rolling his eyes. Makoto blinked at Sousuke’s side, and tilted his head like a confused puppy. 

“Huh? Haru, I have your number. Why would Sou-”

“Because I don’t trust you to ask for help when you need it,” Nanase replied shortly.

“Mm, good point,” Sousuke said. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Nanase, who snatched it from him and quickly put in his number. When he finished, he held it out for Sousuke to take back, looking somewhat satisfied. Makoto frowned, his eyebrows angling up. 

“Guys, I appreciate the concern, but I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself,” he said, smiling anxiously. Sousuke and Nanase exchanged a look, and Makoto bristled, his ears turning a frustrated pink. “What? I can!” 

“It’s not your fault, Makoto. You’re too selfless for your own good,” Sousuke said, attempting to sound comforting. He ruffled Makoto’s hair and smirked. “Think of it more as surveillance.” 

Nanase nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Surveillance.” 

“...You two getting along is weirder than I thought it would be,” Makoto said with a sigh, his shoulder slumping. Nanase and Sousuke looked at each other, noses slightly wrinkled.

“I don’t think ‘getting along’ is the best choice of words,” Sousuke said. 

“More like ‘standing one another,’” Nanase added. 

“Whatever. C’mon, Sousuke, I’m going to be late,” Makoto said, grasping Sousuke’s sleeve and pulling him along. He gave Nanase one last gentle smile. “I’ll see you next week, Haru-chan.” 

“Don’t make me say it,” Nanase replied with a huff, and Makoto laughed. 

“Alright, alright. Bye, Haru.” 

“Bye.” 

Sousuke gave Nanase a sort of salute. “See ya, Nanase.” 

“See ya,” Nanase replied. He began to melt into the crowd, before calling out one last time. “Take care of him for me, alright? I kinda care about that loser.” 

Sousuke grinned. His hand found Makoto’s, and he called over the bustle of the people around them. “Will do.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first official date!! :D Sousuke is a nerd, Rin is protective, and Makoto is a cute bean. So basically business as usual.

“I wish I had a motorcycle,” Sousuke said, half to himself as he rustled through his drawer. His laptop sat on the dresser, so he was eyelevel with it when he straightened. A skype call was pulled up, and Rin’s figure sat comfortably on the screen, watching him as he struggled for clothing. 

“Why?” Rin asked, huffing, “So you could sweep Makoto off of his feet and ride off into the sunset?” 

“Shut up. For more reasons than that.” 

“But you would do something like that, right?” Rin smirked and lifted one eyebrow. “Damn. When did you become such a romantic, Sou? It doesn’t really suit you.” 

“I’m not a romantic. That’s your thing.” 

“That’s not true!” 

“Rin, you are the most romantic person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You literally filled the Samezuka pool with cherry blossoms and made us all wear shitty bags over our heads just to please your friends’ aesthetic.” 

“T-that’s not romantic. That’s just being a super cool friend,” Rin said, a touch of pink rising to his cheeks. Sousuke rolled his eyes. He decided not to press the topic further, in fear that Rin would dissolve into his shoujo-character alter ego. 

“Which one looks better?” he asked, holding up two wrinkled shirts in front of the camera: one a dark navy with plaid and the other a striped olive t-shirt. Pretty much the most decent shirts he was in possession of. 

“Oh, you’re asking my advice, now? After making fun of me?” Rin said, turning his nose up and frowning as if Sousuke had wounded his fragile pride. Which he had.

“Just tell me which one I’d look better in, asshole.” 

Rin pouted, but inspected the shirts, his eyes narrowing. He paused before answering. “The blue one, I think. You don’t look good in green. And you definitely don’t look good in stripes. I warned you about buying that shirt, remember? It makes you look way wider than you are.” 

“You talk as if I’m usually concerned with fashion,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. He held the green shirt out and scowled at it. Rin was probably right. He doubted he could pull it off, but it might have worked with Makoto…. The green would make his eyes pop and his smile seem brighter. And Makoto had a narrower, almost willowy figure. If anything, the shirt would’ve probably made him look thinner. More chiselled and defined.

Damn. Sousuke really had it bad if he was imagining which of his clothes Makoto would look good in. Even though Makoto looked good in everything.

“Fine, fine. Back to your motorcycle dreams,” Rin said dismissively, running his hands through his hair and pulling it back into a loose ponytail. It had grown considerably since the last time Sousuke had seen him in person, the ends brushing his shoulders and falling like water around his face. Sousuke wasn’t sure if it bothered him or not. 

“I don’t know. It would be easier to get around, and faster. I wouldn’t have to worry about walking five hundred blocks every time I wanted Thai,” Sousuke said. He discarded the green shirt and held the blue one out, glowering at it. “And it feels good. My sister once gave me a ride on hers, and it was pretty fun. Like a scooter on steroids.” 

Rin snorted. “A scooter on steroids? That’s a funny image.” 

“That’s what it felt like, though. A scooter on steroids.” 

“Fair enough. I guess I wouldn’t know,” Rin said with a shrug. He smirked. “You’d also look cool in a leather jacket and sunglasses. Maybe with your hair slicked back? And a toothpick between your teeth. Oh gods, I can see it now.” He held up his hands and made a square with his fingers, as if creating a movie shot. “Yamazaki Sousuke: bad boy supreme. Pulls up on his flamed motorcycle and sweeps the lovely, popular cheerleader Tachibana Makoto off of his feet. The two take off towards the sunset, and Makoto wraps his arms around Sousuke’s waist and says…” Rin stopped and feigned a damsel-in-distress pose. His voice was considerably higher when he spoke again. “‘Golly gee, Sou. You’re so bad!’” 

He burst into laughter at his own impression, slapping his knee and baring his sharp, predatory teeth. Sousuke just rolled his eyes. 

“You done?” he asked, when Rin had stopped cackling somewhat and had dissolved instead into bursts of giggles. 

“When will you appreciate my sense of humor, Sousuke?” Rin asked, chuckling as he wiped his eyes. “Ugh, I should ask Haru to illustrate that. Or maybe I’ll tell it to Kisumi, and he could make a movie out of it.” He chuckled again, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “‘Bad boy supreme.’” 

“Shut up,” Sousuke said half-heartedly. His mind drifted, and Makoto’s arms around his waist on a motorcycle didn’t seem all that bad. He could imagine Makoto’s nose brushing his neck as they rode, could practically feel the warmth of his breath and the whipping of his soft hair in the wind. Maybe Sousuke would take them out to the far country, where the world was bare, and they’d stay together in a tiny motel and watch poor-quality television on a stiff mattress, tugging absently at each other’s clothes until the clothes were off entirely. Sousuke gnawed on his lip, treating himself to the image of white parking-lot lights from outside casting shadows over Makoto’s body, causing his warm eyes to sparkle like starlight. He imagined the roll of Makoto’s hips and shoulders as he crept over him, lips parted to meet Sousuke’s softly and surely, his hands wandering along Sousuke’s thighs and stomach… 

“Yo. Earth to Sousuke,” Rin snapped, waving his hands in front of the camera. Sousuke started out of the daydream, feeling heat creep into his face. Rin chortled. “Dude, what the hell? For a second there I thought you were going to float off into your own universe.” 

“Oh. No, I’m good,” Sousuke said, swallowing. He pointedly ignored the throbbing heat that was beginning to swirl in the ‘downstairs’ area. His mind flickered to different scenarios, each more enticing than the first. Makoto as a biker. Makoto as a tattoo-artist. Makoto as a firefighter or a policeman. Makoto as a strict teacher.

Honestly, Makoto would be hot as anything. 

“Your face is red,” Rin said. 

Sousuke cleared his throat. “It’s the lighting. The sun is setting outside.” 

“Uh-huh.” Rin sat back, obviously not convinced. He inspected Sousuke with narrowed eyes and sighed. “You know, I’m not even sure how to feel about this.” 

“About what?” Sousuke unbuttoned the blue shirt and slipped it on around his tank-top. He glanced up at the camera and cocked an eyebrow. “Me and Makoto?” 

“Yeah. Part of me is really happy, but I’m also really worried. And a little disappointed in Makoto.” Rin grinned and shook his head. “He could do way better than you, you know. He’s pretty much a literal angel, and you’re my favorite asshole. Doesn’t seem like a very successful combination.” 

Sousuke snorted, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Yeah, I know. But why are you worried? You talk as if Makoto is a little kid who can’t make his own decisions. You’re not his mom.” He met Rin’s eyes as well as the skype call would allow. “I’m not going to hurt him, you know.”

“You can’t know that, Sousuke,” Rin said, his smirk fading. “Stuff happens in relationships that nobody can really plan. You’re my best friend, and of course I trust you, but who's to say that this won’t take a turn for the worst? Life isn’t a fairytale.” He looked away. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt. I… Kind of wish you would’ve waited longer to tell Makoto about how you feel. Get to know him better, I guess.” 

“It’s been nearly four months, Rin.” 

“I know, but Makoto’s… complex. He’s a lot more complicated than he lets up to be. And four months really isn’t that long, you know.” 

“Makoto isn’t that complex,” Sousuke said weakly, “I know him.” 

“Well, I know him better. Especially since we graduated. If it weren’t for Makoto, I doubt I would’ve been able to really keep in touch with anybody. He’s sort of acted as a lifeline, really. Without him keeping me in check, I probably would’ve let Iwatobi fade from myself. And that can’t happen.” 

A bittersweet smile came across Rin’s face. “I let go of my friendship with Makoto and the others once before. I don’t want that to happen again. They’re my inspiration, and if anything were to happen to them, I-” 

“I get it, Rin,” Sousuke said, cutting him off. He looked away and sighed. A twinge of jealousy, one that he hadn’t felt for a long time, made his muscles tense up a little. Makoto and the other Iwatobi guys had always been Rin’s anchor, the source of his dream. That had irked Sousuke to no end in high school, before getting to know Makoto. Sousuke was the best friend. Sousuke was the one who’d literally moved to a different city to swim with Rin again. Didn’t that mean anything? 

It was frustrating that it still managed to bother him now. 

“It’s not like I’m just worried about him, though,” Rin said, “You know I’m worried about you, too. Well, I’m always worried about you, honestly. But just because Makoto is Makoto doesn’t mean he’s not capable of hurting.”

“...It’s just one date,” Sousuke offered, with little conviction in his voice. He winced and cleared his throat. “It’s not like we’re getting married, or anything. We’re just… Experimenting, I guess. Makoto’s not really sure of anything at this point. No need to get all touchy-feely with me.” 

Rin put up his hands in surrender, huffing. “Okay, okay. I won’t lecture you anymore. I can be cool about this, if that’s what you need.” 

“I don’t need you to be ‘cool,’ I just need you to stop acting like our mother.” Sousuke turned away to pick up his shoes from the cluttered ground, muttering under his breath. “And they say Makoto is the motherly one.” 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hmph.” Rin eyed him warily for a moment, before letting his expression relax. “How did this happen, anyway? The last time I checked, you were pining for Makoto like some sort of lovestruck Shakespeare character, and he was totally oblivious. And now you two are going on a date? What the hell happened inbetween?” 

Sousuke hesitated before answering. “We… sort of went dancing with Kisumi last night. One thing pretty much led to another, and we kissed behind the club.” 

Rin’s eyes widened. “Wait, when you say ‘kissed,’ do you mean you made out?” 

“That sounds about right.” 

“And then what? What did he say about that? You two didn’t have sex, right?” 

“...Well, no.”

“Sousuke, why did you hesitate?” Rin hissed, eyes the size of dinner plates. He covered his hand with his mouth. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him, Sousuke. You slept with him, didn’t you? You slept with my precious angel. Oh, gods. I don’t know if I should wring your neck or bake you a cake.” Rin babbled on, and Sousuke fought to get a word in, which proved unsuccessful. “How was he? Did you top? You must’ve topped. You always top when you’re dating a guy. But Makoto’s definitely got a darker side, so maybe he topped. Is he any good? What was he like? How was his d-”

“Rin. I didn’t sleep with Makoto,” Sousuke snapped, promptly cutting him off. Heat rose to his face as he glowered. “We just made out, I swear. Nothing beyond that.” 

That wasn’t entirely true. They’d done a lot of making out, yes, but there had been some definite ass-grabbing and teasing. Makoto had literally licked Sousuke’s abs, but Sousuke wasn’t about to tell Rin that. 

“...Oh.” Rin relaxed. He made a weird face, as if he wasn’t sure he sould be disapointed or relieved. “Well, is he a good kisser?” 

Sousuke swallowed, recalling Makoto’s warm, syrupy movements and wet, soft lips. “Yes.” 

Rin lifted an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, really? How so?” 

“I don’t know. He’s really gentle, but also not gentle at all.” Sousuke started and scowled, suddenly realizing the words that had just left his mouth. Rin guffawed. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Sousuke huffed, checking his watch. 

“What are you two doing tonight?” 

“... I don’t know. I let Makoto choose.” 

“Ooh, what a gentleman,” Rin cooed, chuckling. Sousuke shot him an unimpressed glare, which he ignored easily. “Well, you look super hot. I was dead-on with that shirt. He’s going to be all over you, I guarantee.” 

“Oh, please. Like he wouldn’t be all over me otherwise,” Sousuke said, as he slipped a couple leather bands around his wrists. 

“No need to pretend. You’re nervous as hell.” 

“Don’t try to pull that ‘best-friend-psychic’ shit on me. You’re not Nanase,” Sousuke growled, attempting to hide the wince at the truth in Rin’s words. Of course he was nervous. It was Makoto. 

“I’m not trying to be. I can just tell,” Rin replied, shrugging. He gained a thoughtful expression and tilted his head. “So, Makoto’s gay? Or bi, or whatever?” 

“... I guess? I don’t know.”

“He’s talked about girls, before, so I just sort of assumed he was straight,” Rin said, pouting, “But I’m not all that surprised, really. He’s always been pretty open about how attractive people are, regardless of gender. Especially guys, actually. I remember hearing from Nagisa that he told Rei he had beautiful legs, and Rei nearly short-circuited. And he calls Haru and I beautiful all the time. Although, I doubt he means it in a romantic way.” 

“That sounds like him,” Sousuke said with a small smile. He recalled all the times they’d been walking down the street, or sitting in the coffee shop, and Makoto would quietly point out somebody he thought was pretty. He’d be awed over the wierdest things, like hooked noses, thick ankles, watery eyes, or a strong cupid’s bow. He found beauty in things that Sousuke would otherwise overlook, in things that passed unnoticed by other people. He had an eye for beauty like Ryuugazaki did, but in a less obvious way. He relished quirks and details. Sousuke found it hopelessly adorable.

Shit. He had it really, really bad. 

A gentle knock came from the door, and Sousuke started. Rin smirked from the screen. 

“Looks like your hot date is here, Sou,” he teased. 

“Shut up,” Sousuke threw over his shoulder, hurrying to get the door. He scowled in frustration as his stomach knotted up with anxiety. He took a deep breath and opened it.

His breath immediately caught in his throat. 

Makoto looked like an angel. An actual, literal angel. Sousuke half expected a pair of ivory wings to bloom from his back.

He wore a nice-fitting green t-shirt, the sleeves hugging his biceps and hips without looking forced. A thick leather necklace ran around his throat, a large, pearly white tooth hanging from it and resting snugly against his chest. His wrists were bare, but a couple silver rings had been slipped on his slender fingers. Dark jeans clung nicely to his legs, perfectly outlining the curve of his thighs and the angles of his calves. A pair of dark glasses were perched on his nose, and messy chestnut hair fell into his warm gaze.  
He smiled softly at Sousuke, and Sousuke was pretty sure the sound of an arrow going through his heart was audible to everyone on the floor. 

“Sousuke, why are you staring like an idiot? Let me see!” Rin snapped from Sousuke’s laptop. Makoto jumped. 

“R-Rin?” he asked, glancing into Sousuke’s dorm as if he expected their friend to be there. 

“Erm, we’re skyping,” Sousuke said, managing to find his voice. He nodded to the dresser, and Makoto leaned forward to peer around the door, his eyes landing on Rin’s disgruntled picture. A smile came to his attractive face. 

“Oh! Hi, Rinrin!” he said, his voice teasing. 

Rin blinked, obviously taken aback by Makoto’s appearance. He let out a low whistle. “Damn, Makoto. You look super hot.” 

“O-oh, um…” Makoto’s face flushed, and he glanced down, smiling sheepishly at the floor. “Thanks, Rin.” 

“You do,” Sousuke blurted, wincing. He cleared his throat. “Look super hot, I mean.” 

Makoto met his gaze, his cheeks reddening further. He grinned, his whole face lighting up. “Thank you, Sousuke. You look very nice, too!”

“Doesn’t he?” Rin piped up. He puffed out his chest proudly, as if Sousuke was his son. “That shirt really brings out his eyes, doesn’t it?” 

Makoto’s gaze lingered over Sousuke’s chest. He smiled faintly, biting his lip. “It does.” 

Sousuke swallowed hard. “Are you admiring me, Tachibana?” 

“Possibly,” Makoto said. He grinned, and leaned forward to pat Sousuke’s chest. “I think I have a right to, though. If it weren’t for me, your pectorals would be totally deflated by now.” 

Sousuke smiled. That was probably true, if they were both being honest. Sousuke worked out by himself considerably, but without Makoto, he doubted he would’ve had much balance to his sessions. “Fair enough.” 

“Ew, this is weird,” Rin said, but he leaned forward on the screen, chin in his hand, and grinned. “I’ve never seen you flirt in person before, Makoto. You’re better than I thought.”

Makoto laughed. “Contrary to popular believe, I’m not always a flustered mess. I can be flirty.” 

“Who would’ve guessed?” Rin replied, smirking. He gave Makoto a wink, and Makoto laughed again, shaking his head.

“Hey, now. Don’t flirt with my date,” Sousuke huffed. He scowled. “More importantly, don’t flirt with your friend from high school.”

“That is completely hypocritical and you know it,” Rin snapped, jabbing a finger at the camera. A touch of pink came to his face. “And how could I not flirt with him when he looks like that? Seriously, Makoto. You need to wear glasses more often.”

“Really? I always thought they made me look nerdy.” Makoto lifted a hand to his glasses, touching them lightly. He smiled an uncertain smile. As if he didn’t buy Rin’s words.

“They do. But like a hot nerd,” Sousuke offered, attempting to bring Makoto’s attention back on him. It worked instantly. Makoto glanced at him and turned a pleasant pink, his eyes flashing with both embarrassment and happiness. The hand touching his glasses moved on what seemed to be instinct to his reddened ear, as if attempting to cover them. 

“Like a sexy teacher,” Rin added. 

“G-guys…” Makoto flushed a deeper shade. He looked away, touching his fingers to his lips, and Sousuke felt his features soften with affection at the action. Makoto really was too cute for his own good. 

“Well, I won’t hold you guys up,” Rin said with a sigh. He sat back. “You two enjoy your date, alright? Be safe and respectful, and all that shit. Sousuke, don’t try anything, and Makoto, don’t let him pay for everything you two do. He’s going to offer, but don’t let him. He’s as broke as you are.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Makoto said with a laugh. 

“And don’t wander off into any weird parts of town. Tokyo is messed up, and Sousuke won’t be able to find his way out if you guys get lost. And use protection if the moment arises. Sousuke always carries a condom around in his wallet, but I don’t know if he has any lube, so you might wanna buy some before you do anything. Maybe if you pass a pharmacy or corner store while you’re out-” 

“Alright, mom, we get it,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine, fine. Just have fun, okay? Don’t break each other’s hearts or anything, or I’ll have to spend all my money on a plane ticket so I can come over there and kick your asses.” 

“I, erm, doubt I could break Sousuke’s heart,” Makoto said, rubbing the back of his head and staring at his shoes. “It’s just one date.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Rin replied, snorting. “Do you know how long he’s been waiting for this? Too long. If anything, you have a bigger chance of breaking his-”

“Okay, talk to you later, Rinrin,” Sousuke interrupted hurriedly, leaning forward to hang up the call. Rin had just enough time to give him an annoyed glare before the screen went dark, and Makoto and Sousuke were left alone in a suddenly awkward silence. Sousuke swallowed, very aware of Makoto’s curious eyes on him. 

“Um, should we go?” he asked, nodding to the door and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, yeah.” Makoto smiled. He bowed, and motioned Sousuke forward, like some sort of chivalrous prince. “After you.”

\---000---

“Look at that one. It looks kinda like Nagisa, doesn’t it?” Makoto asked in a hushed voice. He pointed somewhere in the mass of colorful fish behind the glass. 

“Where?” Sousuke asked, leaning closer. Makoto pointed again, and Sousuke recognized the fish he was motioning to with a smile. It was small and yellow, almost golden, with frilly fins that resembled the curls of Makoto’s small blonde friend. The fish skitted quickly from place to place, nothing more than a flash of gold, twisting and spinning in circles and letting out streams of bubbles. Sousuke let out a soft chuckle. “It does look like Hazuki.” 

“Right?” Makoto laughed. His white teeth practically shown in the dark light of the aquarium, and the ripples of the water danced across his face. Sousuke fought every urge to press him against the aquarium glass and kiss the living daylights out of him. Thankfully, Makoto distracted him by pointing to another fish. “Ooh! Look at that one! Like Kisumi, right?” 

He pointed to a rosy pink fish, speckled with white, with wide, kissy-looking lips. 

“Yeah. Hey, look, it’s Rin,”Sousuke said, jabbing a finger at a stream-lined, scarlet fish with impressive teeth and a yellow streak down it’s side. Makoto grinned, and nodded in agreement. 

“Let’s see if we can find Rei and Gou, too,” he said. The two scanned the expanse of rippling fish, leaning closer together, their elbows brushing. Makoto perked up after a moment and pointed to a slender purple fish with a wide tail that almost resembled the wing of a butterfly. “I found Rei.” 

“There’s Gou,” Sousuke said, motioning to another red fish. It looked to be the same species as the ‘Rin’ fish, but was shorter and a little rounder, with long, frilly fins that fanned around it’s body like a halo of blood. 

“Hey, look! I found a Sousuke.” Makoto said, leaning closer to whisper in Sousuke’s ear. Sousuke swallowed, and tried to focus on the fish Makoto was pointing to, instead of how good Makoto smelled. The fish was big, one of the biggest in the tank, with black, silver, and teal scales. It moved lazily through the water, it’s body flashing and playing with the light with every movement. Sousuke blinked in pleasant surprise. It did look kind of like him. If he had been a fish, that is… 

“You think that looks like me?” he asked Makoto softly. 

“Mm-hm. It’s your spitting image,” Makoto replied. He flushed, before murmuring under his breath. “A very handsome fish…” 

Sousuke swallowed, fighting a smile and trying desperately to keep his default scowl in place. Makoto obviously caught the flash of affection in his eyes, however, because he smiled sweetly and nudged Sousuke’s shoulder. 

“I wonder if there’s a Mako-fish,” Sousuke said, looking back to the tank. He scoured the crowd of fish for any bit of green, (Makoto’s favorite color,) but nothing caught his eye. The minute dragged on, and Sousuke’s frustrated frown deepened. 

Makoto let out a fond chuckle, snapping Sousuke out of his searching, and he looked at him in surprise. Makoto grinned at him as if he were a hopeless puppy, his green eyes bright with adoration. 

“Sorry. You just looked really cute,” he said. He laughed again. “Like finding a Makoto fish was some sort of important mission.” 

“Well, it is,” Sousuke said, in all seriousness, “It’s hardly fair if you find me a fish, but I don’t find you one. I’d feel guilty for the rest of the evening, and our date would be ruined.” 

“Aw…” Makoto flushed, and smiled at the ground. 

Sousuke couldn’t stand it. He wanted very desperately to drag Makoto off to a supply closet somewhere and kiss him with all his might. He wanted to taste Makoto’s mouth again, to feel his warm skin, to hear those breathy little moans that Makoto made when they had made out behind the bar and the night before. He wanted to cover Makoto’s entire body with kisses, and just hold him like a life force. He especially wanted to make Makoto do that cute giggly thing he did when Sousuke touched the spot behind his ear with his lips, where he happened to be very ticklish. 

“Sousuke? You’re looking at me weird,” Makoto said after a moment, smiling nervously. 

“A-Ah. Sorry.” 

“... What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing. Just about fish.” Sousuke turned back to the tank. He cleared his throat. “Did you know that the fastest fish in the world is the sailfish?” He wanted to slap himself the moment the words left his mouth. Honestly, what was he? Fifteen? 

“I did, actually,” Makoto replied. He seemed unbothered by the pathetic change of topic, and continued smiling. “70 mph, right? That’s as fast as a cheetah is on land.”  
“Y-yeah. It’s interesting.” 

“They also change color when they’re hunting, to confuse their prey,” Makoto said with enthusiasm. “Usually they’re this reddish color, but when they’re excited, their scales turn this cool blue. And when they’re hunting, they kinda floof out their sails, until they flatten them and suddenly shoot forward like a bullet.” Makoto moved his flattened hand at a horizontal angle to demonstrate. 

“You’re one-upping me on my own fish fact,” Sousuke said, wrinkling his nose teasingly, “I didn’t realize you were such a fish nerd.” 

“Haru always insists on ocean documentaries, so I guess I got kinda roped in.” 

Sousuke smiled. “Cute.” 

“W-well, as cute as fish can be…” Makoto laughed. 

“I meant you were cute, actually.” 

“Oh!” Makoto blushed again. They stared at each other like a couple of morons, smiling uncontrollably. Makoto looked like he wanted to move closer, but remained still, his eyes focusing on Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke wondered if Makoto wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to… 

“C’mon, let’s go look at the sharks,” Makoto said, grabbing Sousuke’s hand and yanking him down the dark pathway of the aquarium. Sousuke jogged to his side, and their fingers lingered together, before drifting apart. Sousuke tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach whenever Makoto looked at him, and focused instead on beginning a conversation about how cool sharks were. 

Damn him and his nerdy tendencies.

\---000---

“...Is that any good?” Makoto asked, leaning his chin on his hand and eying Sousuke’s plate of noodles. He bit his lip and looked from Sousuke to the plate, like a begging puppy. 

“Do you want some?” Sousuke asked. 

“Can I?” Makoto perked up and grinned his adorable grin. Sousuke pushed the plate towards him, and watched in amusement as he delicately plucked a couple of noodles inbetween his chopsticks. Sousuke tried not to visibly react as Makoto pushed the noodles past his lips and chewed, His cheeks pleasantly pink as he smiled around the mouthful. “Thanks, Sousuke. I’ll have to order that next time we come here.” 

“Ah. So… we’re coming again?” Sousuke asked with a sly smile, tilting his head. 

“Of course. This is one of the cheapest noodle places I’ve-” Makoto paused. He let out an embarrassed laugh. “You meant on another date, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah. But your financial awareness is very sexy,” Sousuke said. Makoto leaned forward to punch his shoulder, his ears as bright as christmas lights. Sousuke smirked. He slowly maneuvered his own chopsticks to Makoto’s plate, and selected a piece of shrimp, before returning it back to his side of the table and plopping it into his mouth. 

“Don’t take the shrimp. They’re my favorite part.” 

“They’re mine, too,” Sousuke replied. He gave Makoto a mischievous grin, before leaning back over to pick another one. Screwing his face up in frustration, Makoto intercepted his chopsticks with his own. They became engaged in a battle of utensils, both laughing lightly as they tried to push the other away. Sousuke huffed under his breath. 

“Dammit, Makoto. I’m going to jab you in the finger.” 

“That’s cheating,” Makoto replied. 

“Ah, young grasshopper, you are naive in the ways of chopstick war,” Sousuke said. 

“You underestimate me,” Makoto said, smiling innocently as he trapped one of Sousuke’s chopsticks between his own. The other clattered out of Sousuke’s hand onto the table. Makoto flashed him a triumphant grin, took the shrimp, and placed it on his tongue boastfully. “The apprentice has become the master.” 

“Hardly. You still have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Sousuke said, “One battle won is not a lifetime of successes.” 

Makoto snorted. “Where’d you get that? Karate Kid?” 

“Samurai Jack, actually.” 

“Really? Isn’t that a cartoon?” Makoto asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling. 

“I’ll have you know that animation is a respectable art,” Sousuke replied, picking up his chopsticks and waving around for emphasis, “I’d expect you to know that, considering you’re the older sibling of two ten-year-old twins.” 

“I just didn’t expect you to watch American cartoons, of all people.” 

“Are you kidding? Adventure Time is my jam.” 

“Mine too!” Makoto laughed, and Sousuke wished that the heavens would take pity on him and strike him down. That laugh should be illegal, it was so adorable. It was an actual struggle for Sousuke to keep from smiling like an absolute idiot. He had to concentrate on keeping his face neutral, for the sake of his reputation as a resting bitch-face type of guy. He hadn’t known what he had expected for this date, and he was relieved that not much had changed between them. Makoto was a friend. Somebody he trusted to laugh around, who he didn’t have to feel awkward about showing his smile to. Not only that, but Makoto actually wanted to see him smile. He went out of his way to bring a grin to Sousuke’s face, to cause some sort of positive reaction that assured him that Sousuke was enjoying himself. His constant awareness of how Sousuke felt was familiar and comforting. 

This was shaping up to be one of the best dates Sousuke had ever been on. 

Makoto’s tooth necklace caught the yellow light of the lamp over their heads, distracting Sousuke from that saintly laugh. He inspected it with a finger to his lips, narrowing his eyes. Makoto followed his gaze and looked down at the necklace. He smiled and held it out for Sousuke to see, leaning forward so Sousuke could touch the little tooth. Sousuke ran his finger over its smooth surface. It was small, about the size of a nectarine, as if it had belonged to a baby orca. The tooth was pearly and white, not carrying the yellowish tinge that most full-grown orcas had. 

“My lucky charm,” Makoto said, rubbing the leather band that held the tooth between his fingers. 

“Does it have a story behind it?” 

Makoto winced. “Yeah, but not a very happy one…” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow.“Well, now you have to tell me.” 

“I don’t want to be a downer on our first date!” 

“Too late. Spill,” Sousuke demanded.

Makoto’s shoulders slumped, and he shot Sousuke a small, slightly irritated smile. “Fine. When I was little, the aquarium in Iwatobi had a couple of orcas that they took care of. My mom didn’t like to take me because of the whole ‘animal cruelty’ thing, but when I was maybe six years old one of the orcas had a baby. I forced my mom to take me, and pretty much fell in love with that little calf. Orcas became my all-time favorite animal, and I thought of that baby orca as one of my best friends.” He smiled at the memory, his eyes growing distant. “One day, the baby died. It caught a disease from one of the adults that it’s little body couldn’t fight. I was horrified. I forced my parents to take me to see it, and cried in front of it’s tank for an hour. One of the trainers saw me, and gave the tooth to me. She had wanted to keep it, since she had been the baby’s caretaker, but she had wanted me to have it so I’d stop crying. My mom spent a week trying to turn it into some sort of charm for me to wear, and when she finished, I wore it everywhere I went. It’s just a little source of comfort, now, I guess. Like a security blanket, as pitiful as that sounds.” 

“It’s not pitiful,” Sousuke said. He rested his chin on his hand and regarded Makoto with eyebrows drawn together. He desperately tried not to imagine a sobbing, unhappy little Makoto, crying over the death of his little orca friend. He didn’t think his heart what be able to handle picturing such a thing. “It’s meaningful.” 

“Yeah.” Makoto nodded, smiling. He touched his fingers to the tooth’s surface and shrugged. “I don’t wear it as often, anymore. Mostly just to things I’m nervous about, like exams or parties…” 

“Does that mean you were nervous about our date?” Sousuke asked. 

“W-well, can you blame me?” Makoto said, cracking an anxious smile. He gestured vaguely to Sousuke. “I mean, it’s you.” 

“What about me?” Sousuke asked, tilting his head. 

“I dunno. You’re just…” Makoto flushed and looked away. “You’re just you. All thoughtful, intelligent looks and nice little smiles and jokes that make me turn red.” 

Sousuke blinked, his heart missing a beat. It seemed crucial in that moment to outline every detail of Makoto with his eyes, exhilaration pulsing through him with his blood as he marvelled at the pleasant curves of Makoto’s nose and jaw, the sweet tilt of his lips, the sheer kindness in his apple-green eyes, the way his hair cast a shadow over that tan, caramel skin. 

Sousuke wondered, for the second time in a few months, if this is what it felt like to be in love.

“S-stop staring at me like that,” Makoto mumbled, his face turning a deeper pink. He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile playing with his lips. “When you look at me like that, it feels as if I’m being blinded by some sort of heavenly light.” 

Sousuke blinked, taken aback. “Heavenly light?” 

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve read my embarrassing writing,” Makoto said, laughing. “Do I have to remind you about the entire page in my notebook dedicated to the way you look at me?” 

“Ah. I remember.” 

“I guessed as much,” Makoto said with a hopeless sigh. He looked down at the empty plate in front of him, biting his lip, before checking his watch. “The fireworks will be starting, soon. We should ask for a check.” 

“Right.” Sousuke reached for his wallet and brought it out to start counting bills. 

“H-hey, none of that!” Makoto said, leaning forward with a chopstick to gently thwack the back of Sousuke’s hand. “I’m the one who asked you out, so I’ll be paying.” 

“Oh, please. You never would’ve asked me out if I hadn’t kissed you.”

“Yeah, but I did, in the end. So I’m paying.” 

“Not a chance.” 

“Look, why don’t you just pay next time?” Makoto asked.

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows and smiled. “Tachibana, are you asked me out again?” 

“Possibly.” 

Unable to help a fond chuckle, Sousuke gave in and put his wallet away. 

\---000---

“That was a good date.” 

“Yeah, it was.” 

“I had fun.”

“I did, too! I’ll have to send Rin all those pictures we took of the shark tank.” 

“To put on his shark-wall?”

“...Yes.”

Sousuke snorted. “I thought I was the only one who knew about his shark wall.” 

“I accidentally saw it once when we were skyping. He tried to deny it, but there was no way I was going to let that go,” Makoto said with a fond laugh, shaking his head. “He really is a nerd.” 

“Of course he is. He’s Rin.” Sousuke nudged Makoto with his elbow, smirking. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. ‘I-freak-out-whenever-a-new-episode-of-Haikyuu!!-is-released.’”

“Low blow, Sousuke,” Makoto said, smiling despite himself. They stopped in front of Sousuke’s dorm room, and Sousuke felt a slight ache as he pulled his keys out. He didn’t want this to be over. This had been too nice for it to be over so soon. He was disgusted by the floor inbetween the rooms, the fact that he was going to sleep tonight without the feeling of Makoto’s skin on his, without those green eyes being the last things he saw before closing his own. He stalled unlocking the door by pretending to get the wrong key, by fumbling with it until it was painfully obvious what he was doing. Makoto watched him, amused, a sweet smile on his lips as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. 

When there finally was no more room for stalling, for enjoying Makoto’s presence, Sousuke pushed the door open and sighed. He glanced at Makoto, and the two stared at each other for a moment, lips pursed. 

“I want to kiss you right now,” Sousuke said. 

Makoto’s smile widened, and a touch of pink rose to his face. “You should.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“C’mere.” Gently, Sousuke took his hand and led him into the room, pushing him behind the door so any late-night stragglers in the hallway wouldn’t see. He pressed him against the wall and touched their lips together. His hands snaked up Makoto’s chest to cup his face, and he felt Makoto’s fingers fiddle with his belt. The remains of dinner lingered in the kiss, but it was nothing compared to the undeniable, overwhelmingly sweet taste of Makoto. 

Their lips separated with a soft smacking noise, and Sousuke kept his eyes closed for a moment, relishing the feeling of Makoto’s breath stirring against his lip. He rested his forehead against Makoto’s and sighed, nuzzling him with his nose and prompting a soft chuckle. 

“You could stay, you know,” he murmured. Their lips met again, and Sousuke suppressed a shiver as Makoto’s tongue gently traced the curve of his teeth. They broke apart again, and moving his mouth away far enough to wait for a reply felt as painful as pulling a strip of duct tape off. 

Makoto looked away. “I shouldn’t, though. It’s late. And we both have to be up early tomorrow for our run. I still haven’t touched my mathematics reading assignment.” 

Sousuke glowered. “Please?”

“Mm… No.” Makoto leaned forward to place one more peck against Sousuke’s mouth, before slipping out from between Sousuke and the wall. He smiled sleepily, and reached up to ruffle his hair into short black spikes. “Get some sleep. And thanks for the date, Sousuke.” 

“Anytime,” Sousuke said. He attempted to cover his disappointment with a soft smile. “N’night.” 

“N’night.”

Makoto flashed him one last heart-stopping grin, before closing the door behind him. 

Sousuke huffed, his hand immediately reaching down to unzip his pants. He turned to throw himself onto his bed, and nearly had a heart attack when the first thing he saw was Fujioka on the neighboring mattress, watching him with interest and obviously very drunk. 

“You could’ve… could’ve checked I was in here, you know,” Fujioka managed, swaying slightly. He blinked his eyes a couple times, as if he was having trouble focusing. “Before you started making out with the giant orca thing.” 

“The… What?” 

Fujioka gestured blindly to the closed door. “There was a fucking orca in here, man. A full-blown killer whale. It was pretty funny.” Fujioka dissolved into maniac giggles, flopping over onto his side. 

Sousuke just sighed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto tells Sousuke something important. ^^;

The weeks passed in a muddled blur of stolen kisses and frantic studying. 

Exams were growing uncomfortably close, and Sousuke and Makoto launched themselves into their work, scrambling for forgotten notes and unfinished assignments. 

Sousuke regretted everything. All those nights he’d wasted, staring at his ceiling and scowling about nothing, when he could’ve been doing the shit ton of stuff that was coming back to bite him. He probably would’ve let everything go entirely, if it hadn’t been for Makoto’s constant worrying and nagging over the past few months. Makoto had managed to give him enough motivation to scrape through all of his grade-heavy assignments, and he wasn’t doing too bad, technically speaking. It was far from great, and he could expect a lecture from his parents at any given day, but it could’ve been much worse. At least he had a sliver of confidence that he’d do well on the exams, what with all the time he was putting in now. 

Makoto was no better. If anything, he was worse, but for a different reason entirely. Unlike Sousuke, he’d stayed diligent through thick and thin, getting all of his assignments and assessments done well no matter what, like the responsible person he was. (If not a little disorganized and clumsy.) But his ability to overthink everything was really uncanny. He was a whirlwind of stress. Somehow he had managed to juggle school work, the university swim team, and keeping in touch with his family and friends up until now, but he was coming apart at the seams with the growing doom of exams. He’d butt-dial Sousuke randomly in the middle of the night, and Sousuke would be greeted with nothing but Makoto’s study-mumbling again and again. It was a nightmare. If Sousuke hadn’t been there to slow him down now and again, Makoto’s anatomy-filled brain would’ve exploded by the time exams finally rolled around. 

Because of the sudden wave of stress, they’d done little since their first date. Sousuke was disgusted by the lack of time they spent together, especially when they were separated by one measly floor. He was desperate for Makoto’s company all the time. Being reunited with Makoto’s refreshing nature and healing kisses was like drinking the elixir of the gods. They fought tirelessly to find some time for each other, but most of their arrangements ended up as study-dates, to Sousuke’s annoyance. They’d only just begun ‘seeing each other,’ and they were barely even seeing each other. 

But once they did find time to meet up, it was like stepping into the eye of the storm, and everything seemed to settle to an extent. Studying was made ten times easier when Makoto’s smile was just a table’s surface away, waiting to give Sousuke the encouragement he needed to continue pouring over shitty tons of information and text. Every part of his body loosened, and Sousuke could laugh and joke and pretend like everything was perfectly perfect when Makoto’s eyes met his, or when their fingers touched over the mess of books and pencils. He felt like a fucking shoujo character, thinking stuff like that, but his brain was honestly so fried from studying that he couldn’t care less. 

Nights were better, because sometime between nine and eleven, Makoto would lose momentum and Sousuke would take the opportunity to sweep his attention away. They would end up making out on Makoto’s bed, (and sometimes Tanaka’s,) and the frantic fight for sums and equations would turn into a heated mess of lips and hands, tugging at clothing but never really pulling them off entirely. They teased each other endlessly, and right before Sousuke could even think about getting anywhere, Makoto would regain his need to pour over a book, and the studying massacre would continue. 

\---000---

“...Database administrator. In charge of storing data on programs including shipping records or financial information, database administrators install, upgrade, configure and maintain an organization’s database. They can earn about $78,500 per year. These administrators-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sousuke huffed, scribbling notes down furiously. He held a finger up for Makoto to stop, and Makoto paused. Sousuke cursed under his breath, his pencil halting across the lined paper. “Say that last part, again.” 

“They can earn about $78,000 per year?” 

“Yeah. That part.” 

“...Should I continue?” 

“Hold on. What’s $78,000 in yen?” 

Makoto pouted. “I don’t know. Around eight million, I think…?” 

“Here, I’ll look it up.” Setting his pencil down a little too forcefully, Sousuke slipped his phone out of his pocket and rested his arms across his notebook as he opened the browser to search it. He couldn’t help scowling at the screen, incredibly irked with his professor’s habit of using foreign administration textbooks. How an American was capable of teaching hundreds of Japanese students was really beyond him. She was fluent, (although her accent was definitely something,) but for some reason she particularly enjoyed assigning them reading projects that were loosely translated from English textbooks. It was business, for gods sake. Everything was all prices. “9,264,840 yen.” 

“That’s a lot of yen,” Makoto commented, resting his chin in his palm. He kicked Sousuke gently from underneath the library table, obviously bored with reading Sousuke’s reading assignments out for him. They’d been here all afternoon, hidden in a little private corner of the university library, away from the other students that were busy cramming for the upcoming exams. The majority of the study date had been spent trying to coax Makoto to read to him, so he wouldn’t have to look from his book to his notes and back again. Makoto had only agreed after a couple hours, after finishing the majority of his unit studying. He’d been worn down by Sousuke’s promises of cuddles, later. 

Makoto was always weak for cuddles. Sousuke had learned that pretty quickly, after a couple weeks of going out with him. (They were still a little hesitant to use the term “dating,” still.) Makoto had never seemed like the touchiest of people before, but after their first date, it was as if the floodgates had opened. Makoto insisted on cuddling whenever it could be helped. Whether they were studying in their dorms, watching a movie, eating, sleeping, or just complaining about their lives. Sousuke could be sure there would be cuddling involved. When he teased Makoto about it, Makoto would immediately flush red and say that it was only because he liked the feeling of somebody bigger than him. That only made Sousuke tease him more, to his utter irritation, and he would demand more cuddles as punishment for Sousuke’s ‘rude nature.’ It was a laughable, vicious cycle. 

“Nine million yen is less than it sounds,” Sousuke said, sighing. 

“Still sounds like a lot,” Makoto said. He tapped his cheek and pouted. “I wish I had nine million yen. That could definitely come in handy about now.” 

“Yeah,” Sousuke said with a soft smirk, copying the number down beside the original and putting a sloppy pair of parentheses around them. He glanced up at Makoto and tilted his head. “If you had that much money right now, what would you do?” 

Makoto pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Buy you a really fancy dinner.” 

“Really? That’s how you’d spend it?” 

“Not all of it, of course,” Makoto said, smiling, “I’d pay off all the college loans I could. Maybe get some really good new pencils and notebooks.”

Sousuke huffed. “You have no imagination.” 

“I don’t, do I?” Makoto kicked him lightly under the table again, a challenge flashing in his eyes. 

“Nope. Honestly, free your mind from the confines of studies for two seconds. All your talk of responsibilities is boring.”

Makoto straightened, a competitive gleam in his eyes. “Fine, then. You know what I’d do with nine million yen? I’d buy you, me, and Haru tickets to Australia to go visit Rin for a week or two. In a really nice hotel. Fluffy towels, chocolates on the pillows, the whole sha-bang. We’d swim all day and all night, and I’d hire a guy to teach me how to surf, because surfing seems like a lot of fun… even if I’m a little scared of the ocean. We’d go see the opera in fancy tuxedos, and have fancy curry, and do all that fancy stuff that fancy people do. Like talk about literature and modern art and classical music. I would rent a beach so we could have it all to ourselves, and maybe pay for some horses to ride along the shore for an afternoon, just to say that I have.” He shut his eyes tight and sighed. “And we’d build a campfire on the sand and sit around it and just… talk, in our fancy dress clothes that would be ruined by the wind and the waves. But we wouldn’t care, because ruined dress clothes are perfect for sitting on the beach and listening to the opera of the ocean. And I’d force you to sing to me on that beach. I know you can, even though you’d be embarrassed. We’d stay out late, and I would poorly play the only songs I know on a ukelele and dance around the fire, and Haru and Rin would laugh and laugh, and it would be as if we had never, ever left.”

Silence fell between them, and Makoto kept his eyes closed, as if the image would fade away if he opened them. Sousuke just blinked. His mind pulsed with the picture Makoto had created. He wanted nothing more for that to be real, for them to be on an ivory beach in rumpled suits, instead of sitting at a dusty library table in ramen-stained hoodies and jeans that didn’t fit right. 

“.... Well, I stand corrected,” Sousuke said. He held up his hands in defeat. “You win.” 

“I win what?” Makoto cracked one eye open, his voice light and breathy from the daydream. 

“You win my confirmation that you do indeed have some imagination. Although I think you might’ve gone over the nine million yen budget with a trip like that.” 

“Ah.” Makoto chuckled and blinked both eyes open, resting his cheek against his hand. “Well, what would you do, Sousuke? If you had nine million yen and no debts to repay.”

Sousuke didn’t have to consider the concept for more than a couple seconds. He tapped his bad shoulder before speaking curtly. “Surgery. To get this done and over with.” 

The dreamy expression drained from Makoto’s face, and Sousuke instantly regretted mentioning his shoulder at all as that familiar look came into those green eyes. Makoto straightened. His lips curled into a concerned line, and he gave a tiny nod. 

“That… sounds good. I think I’d do that too, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

“You’d pay for my surgery?”

Makoto nodded again. He searched Sousuke’s face, as if looking for any sign that he needed to be comforted or kissed. “Of course.” 

“Hm. I’ll have to hold you to that, the next time you have nine million yen,” Sousuke said jokingly, attempting to pull them back to safer waters. It worked, to an extent. Makoto’s easy, tentative smile returned, despite the sad look in his eyes. Sousuke hated it when he looked like that. When Makoto made that face, it was as if the weight of the sky was on his shoulders, but he was smiling regardless. It made Sousuke’s insides writhe with frustration. Not with Makoto, per se, but with himself, for prompting such a look. 

“I’ll make sure to keep you updated on when I have that much money,” Makoto said, his smile widening and looking a little less painful. 

“I also wouldn’t mind if you bought me a motorcycle,” Sousuke added, grateful for the change of topic. “I’ve been thinking about how convenient one would be.” 

“A motorcycle? Do you know how to ride one?”

Sousuke huffed. “I would learn, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Makoto said with a soft chuckle, touching a finger to his lips. He shot the nest of studying material that cluttered the table a disdainful eye. “Should we wrap this up? As interesting as database administrators are, I think my voice is going to give out if I have to read one more paragraph about them.” He pulled a face and dramatically massaged his throat. “Why do you have me read to you, again? I’ve got my own stuff to do, you know. And I can hardly be expected to give that anatomy presentation if I sound like a frog.”

“I told you. Your voice keeps me interested,” Sousuke replied. He began to gather his stuff and shove it unceremoniously into the bag that hung across his chair. He shot Makoto a smirk. “I thought we’d clarified that a while ago.” 

Makoto flushed, his hands shaking slightly as he followed Sousuke’s example and began to clean up the table. “You’re so weird, Sousuke.” 

“Call me ‘Sou,’” Sousuke purred, making sure Makoto caught the way he licked his lips sensually. Makoto pretended like he didn’t see and focused on scooping his books into his bag. 

“No. I don’t have the energy to indulge your strange pleasures,” he said shortly, although his pink face and shy smile didn’t match up with his tone at all. Sousuke resisted a chuckle as he swung his bag over his shoulder and stood. 

“You ready to go? I believe I owe you some cuddles for my reading session.” 

“That you do. A lot of cuddles,” Makoto said, standing to join him. He bumped his hip with Sousuke’s and rubbed his throat again. “My voice is going to be all crackly for days.” 

“Mmm. Very sexy.”

“Don’t make me hit you, Yamazaki Sousuke.” 

“Maybe I should have you read me some more of your writing, too. I’m sure you’ve got some more interesting stuff about me in there. Maybe more details about my smile that’s brighter than the sun…? A sight you’ve never seen before…?” 

“I’ll do it. I’ll legitimately hit you.” 

Sousuke laughed. He ruffled Makoto’s hair, prompting a very annoyed look. “No, you won’t. You’re too sweet to hit anybody.” 

“I’m not that sweet.” 

“You’re practically a walking chocolate bar, Makoto. With marshmallows.” 

Makoto put a hand to his chest, feigning an insulted look. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m fat?” 

Sousuke laughed, half from Makoto’s poor, exaggerated acting skills, and half from the very idea of somebody like Makoto being overweight. The thought was so ridiculous that he didn’t even mind when people turned their heads in his direction.

His laughter must’ve been contagious, because Makoto burst into giggles, holding a hand to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. He gave the studying students they passed apologetic looks, his shoulders shaking. A librarian shot them a glare and shushed them, and Sousuke and Makoto hurried side-by-side out of her line of sight, curling their lips in and exchanging amused glances that sent them into waves of laughter all over again. 

\---000---

“Sousuke?” 

“Yeah?”

“...Can I tell you something kinda important?” 

“Hm. Depends on what type of ‘important,’” Sousuke said, not looking up from his phone as they wandered down the quad, towards their dorm building. 

“What do you mean?” Makoto asked, and Sousuke didn’t have to glance at him to know that he was frowning in thought. “Are there different kinds of ‘important?’”

“Sure there are. Like, there’s ‘I-haven’t-finished-my-essay-and-I’m-dying-inside’ important, and then there’s ‘did-you-know-that-orcas-stay-with-their-mothers-until-they-die’ important,” Sousuke said simply, scrolling his thumb across the screen of his phone and directing his little character to a cloud island. “There’s also ‘I-haven’t-eaten-in-twenty-four-hours’ important. And who can forget the ‘I-was-just-hit-by-the-sheer-vulnerability-of-planet-earth’ important? That one’s probably my least favorite.” 

Makoto laughed, his bell-like voice filling the walkway, and joining the sleepy murmuring of late-night wanderers that mingled under the orange glow of the street-lights. Sousuke looked up from his phone and smiled, his heart beating a little faster at the sound. He slipped his phone back into the safety of his pocket and straightened, putting his full attention on Makoto and his stupidly pretty face. 

“As insightful as ever, Sousuke,” Makoto said. They passed under a lamp, and honey-colored light pooled over the elegant angles of his face for a moment, causing his apple-green eyes to flash amber. He smiled and shook his head. “But I don’t think any of those match up with what I wanted to tell you.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “It must be serious, then.” 

“Yeah, it kinda is…” Makoto winced, and his smile faltered a little. “Do you remember back on that first day, when I took you out for coffee and those girls starting hitting on me?”

Like Sousuke could forget the day he had cupid’s arrow impaled through his heart. “Yeah.”

“And you told them we were dating?”

Sousuke smirked. “Yeah.” 

“And then you asked if I was gay, and I said I didn’t know, and then I continued talking and making a fool out of myself…?”

“That sounds about right.” 

Makoto rolled his eyes before continuing. “Well, I’ve been thinking a lot since then. About me, that is. It’s kind of funny, because up until this point, I had never bothered with thinking about myself. I wasn’t something that needed to be labelled, or explored. I was just… me. And I was fine with just being me, with no other clarifications.” He glanced down at the pathway as they walked, his cheeks pinkening in the dim light. “Iwatobi’s a really small town, and the people there have never really taken kindly to, well, change. A lot of the people I’ve grown up with have been homophobic, or racist, or sexist… et cetera, et cetera. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I never tried to think about what made me different. I know I care too much about what people think, but I guess I was always a little terrified that if I thought too much about myself, I’d end up isolating myself.” 

He looked up, at the blank, dark sky, a small smile on his lips. “But then I came here, and everything was different. There are people everywhere, and most of them are gone before I can so much as learn their names. It’s weird. The more people I meet and forget about, the more I start to think about myself, because I’m sorta my only constant source of companionship most of the time.” 

Sousuke pulled a face. “What about me? And Nanase?” 

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” Makoto said weakly, offering a nervous smile. “You have to understand that back in Iwatobi, Haru was always there. Always. I had no room for just myself, because Haru was there for me to worry about, instead. And I was totally fine with that. But now… Haru’s got his own life. We still see each other all the time, and we’re still best friends, but we’re separate. And I’m suddenly realizing that I don’t know anything about myself.”

“...Where is this going, Makoto?” Sousuke asked, bringing his eyebrows together in concern. They stopped in front of their dorm building, and Sousuke held the door open for both of them to slip in. They instinctively went to the staircase, making the familiar climb up to their floors, side by side.

Makoto laughed, his voice hitching with nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I’m getting off-topic. I do that, sometimes.” 

Sousuke smiled fondly. “Yeah, I know. Continue.” 

“Okay. So basically, to summarize, I’ve been doing some soul-searching. You know, wondering who I am and wondering what it means to be Tachibana Makoto. And I’ve been doing some research, and I’ve been talking with some people, and I…” Makoto stopped, mid-step, and swallowed. He met Sousuke’s eyes with a firm determination. “I think I’m pansexual.” 

Sousuke blinked. “Pansexual?”

“Yeah. Pansexual.” 

“Like…” Sousuke winced. “Like, you’re sexually attracted to everybody?”

“N-not everybody!” Makoto yelped, his face flushing. “Gods, Sousuke. It’s n-not like I want to sleep with everybody I see, or anything.” 

“Well, I’m sorry,” Sousuke huffed, feeling his own face pinken. It was confirmed. He was an idiot. “I’m just… not very familiar with the term. I don’t really know what it means.” 

“...Okay. Okay, I can understand that,” Makoto mumbled. He covered a side of his beet-red face with a hand and laughed weakly. “To be honest, I’m still not sure of it, myself. It’s different for a lot of people. But from what I’ve been reading about and talking about, pansexuality is probably what I can relate to the most.” He gave a sudden shiver, his face paling. “I-it’s really weird, saying that out loud.” 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I just… I didn’t expect to feel so nervous about this. I’ve been thinking about it for so long, and it still seems a little strange.” He gave Sousuke an uncomfortable look and gulped. “Can we possibly talk about this in my dorm? And not on a stairwell?” 

Sousuke gave a tiny nod. “Yeah. Yeah, of course we can.” 

\---000---

Tanaka wasn’t there, thankfully. But, then again, Tanaka was rarely around at night. According to Makoto, he spent a lot of time over at his girlfriend’s apartment. Which was nice, because that left Makoto’s dorm free for his and Sousuke’s after-study make-out sessions and canoodling. 

Makoto unlocked the door and they both slipped inside, Sousuke instinctively going to flop over on Makoto’s bed. He wriggled onto his back, sat up, and kicked off his shoes, like he did every time Makoto had him over. Makoto moved to sit at his side and shrugged off his jacket. He shook a little.

“Okay. So, tell me what it means to be pansexual,” Sousuke demanded gently. He shifted to sit indian-style on Makoto’s stiff covers and faced him with a determined pout. “So far, I know that being pansexual does not in fact mean that you want to have sex with every person you see. So let’s build from there.”

Makoto fought a laugh, holding a hand up to his mouth to contain it. “This is serious, Sousuke.” 

“I know. I’m just saying it like it is.” 

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Makoto said. He took a deep breath, before facing Sousuke and copying his example, sitting lotus-style. Their knees brushed, and somewhere in the middle of their long legs their fingers interlocked. Makoto closed his eyes tight, as if gathering himself, before releasing a steady sigh and opening them again, his gaze even. “Okay. Being pansexual isn’t really all that different from being bisexual. They’re pretty similar. Bisexuality is just better known, so a lot of people use it as a term in pansexuality’s place. If a person is bisexual, they’re attracted to multiple genders. Sometimes with a preference, sometimes not. Pansexuality is the same in that aspect. I’m attracted to multiple genders.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “Like me.”

Makoto grinned, as if Sousuke were a little kid who’d just answered a math question. “Yeah, like you.” 

“And you have a preference…?”

Makoto paused, taking a moment to mull the question over. “I don’t think so. I guess I’ve always kinda noticed guys more, but I also like girls…? Like, they’re both nice. I wouldn’t mind dating either, as long as I cared about them and they cared about me. That’s basically pansexuality, from what I understand.”

Sousuke frowned. “So… What’s the difference, then? Between bisexuality and pansexuality, I mean. You could be bisexual and just not have a preference.”

“Well, it’s different for different people, as far as I can tell,” Makoto said. He straightened a little, as if he were a professor giving an important lecture. “Bisexuals tend to be attracted to the two most common genders: male and female. Pansexual people can also be attracted to transgender people, genderfluid people, and genderqueer people. It basically means that it doesn’t matter, as long as they find that person attractive and likes them for who they are.” Makoto winced. “I don’t like using the term ‘gender-blind,’ because a person’s gender is usually very important to their sense of identity, but it sorta gets the message across.” 

Sousuke nodded. He held Makoto’s hands a little tighter in his own, massaging his thumbs absently along Makoto’s knuckles. “Hm. I remember what you said that day, I think. Something along the lines of ‘Love is love, and I don’t care as long as I’m happy.’”

Makoto immediately brightened, his face flushing pink. “...You remember that?”

Sousuke snorted and rolled his eyes. “Makoto, I think we established a long time ago that I’ve liked you since the beginning. Of course I remember.” 

“I didn’t think you’d remember word for word, though,” Makoto said, his voice an octave higher. He looked away, blushing. Sousuke couldn’t help a fond laugh. 

“Well, I’m happy for you,” he said. He lifted one of Makoto’s hands to place a tiny kiss to his knuckles. “Pansexuality seems pretty cool.” 

Makoto cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile creating dimples in his cheeks. “...Pretty cool?” 

“I just mean that it seems like it fits you.” Sousuke smirked. “You’ve always been sort of wishy-washy.” 

“T-that’s not the reasoning behind my sexuality!”

“I know, I know. Relax, I’m just teasing.” Laughing lightly, Sousuke released Makoto’s hands and cupped his face instead, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Makoto pouted in irritation against his mouth for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into Sousuke’s touch, their lips lacing naturally and softly. Sousuke ran his fingers through Makoto’s hair, swirling the strands into curls. 

They separated a sliver, lips still parted to catch the last of each other’s taste. Makoto’s hands rubbed Sousuke’s thighs through his jeans, the pads of his fingers pressing gently, almost possessively. 

“And you’re okay with this? With… with me being pansexual?” 

“Are you asking me as a friend, or as somebody you’re seeing?” 

Makoto swallowed. “Both. W-why? Does it matter?” 

“No. Just wondering. You honestly think I wouldn’t be okay with it? Makoto, I wouldn’t care if you were sexually attracted to a potato, as long as you didn’t leave me for one.” 

Makoto immediately burst into laughter. He laughed the type of laugh that was Sousuke’s favorite: the one that took over his entire body, making his eyes crinkle, his teeth bared, and his shoulders shake. He flopped back onto the mattress and covered his eyes, (giving Sousuke a wonderful example of how flexible he was, considering his legs remained folded,) and clutched at his stomach. Sousuke couldn’t help smiling like an idiot at the sight. Makoto practically oozed golden light and warmth. His voice enveloped the room, filling every nook and cranny of Sousuke’s being and making him tremble with contagious happiness. 

“A… potato?” Makoto wheezed. Tears of laughter made his green eyes shine when he removed his hand. He looked at Sousuke, and instantly dissolved in another fit of giggles. “You think I’d leave you for a potato?” 

“It was an example.” 

“How would that even work? How can somebody be sexually attracted to a potato?” 

Sousuke threw his hands up in exasperation, smiling despite himself. “I don’t know. Forgive me for trying to emphasize how I feel about the situation.” His words triggered another fit of laughter, and Makoto rolled onto his side, clutching at his chest. Sousuke watched him fondly, waiting for him to settle down again. Honestly, it wasn’t that funny. All he’d done was compare himself to a potato. 

“You’re so weird, Sousuke,” Makoto puffed, once he had recovered. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his smile still hopelessly wide. “But I appreciate the thought.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sousuke huffed, pretending to look offended. He helped Makoto sit up when Makoto stuck a hand in the air, wriggling his fingers pleadingly. “So… Am I the first person you’ve told? You’ve probably told Nanase already, if you’re telling me.” 

Makoto winced. “Yeah, I told him earlier today. He wasn’t all that surprised. After I told him, he just kind of nodded and asked if I would pick up some mackerel for when I come over there this weekend.” 

Sousuke snorted. “What a shocker.”

“I have to admit, I was a little disappointed,” Makoto said, shrugging. “One of these days I want to tell him something that’ll really catch him off guard. But I think he kinda knew my sexuality before I did.”

“...You two are freaks.” 

“Not freaks. Just freakishly close,” Makoto corrected good-naturedly. 

“What about your friends and family?” 

“I haven’t told them, yet. I think I’ll wait a bit, maybe give myself some more time to really see what it’s like to be openly pansexual in everyday life, first. You know, to see how I feel about it. I’m also not really sure how my family will react, so I might just hint around it when I talk to them next.”

“Where’d you get all this information, anyway? Just off the internet?” Sousuke asked. 

“W-well, mostly… But there’s a sorta limited supply of good information online,” Makoto said, looking away, “Everywhere I looked, I ended up just getting more and more confused, because the definitions didn’t match up. And pansexuality is a bit of a joke to some people, so there’s a lot of mixed opinions. Homophobia will be homophobia, but there are also people who don’t recognize pansexuals because they think they’re just glorified bisexuals. Or that they’re people who just use the term ‘pan’ as a fancy way to say they sleep around. It took a couple conversations with actual, real-life people to get some clarity. Well, mostly just one person…” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “Who?” 

Makoto hesitated before answering. “... Tanaka-kun, actually.” 

“Tanaka?” Sousuke’s gaze instinctively went to Tanaka’s empty bed, half expecting to see the tattooed asshole lounging across it with an annoyed look and a porno pinched between his fingers. He looked back to Makoto, his eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t know he was… not straight.” 

“Neither did I,” Makoto said. His glanced briefly at Tanaka’s posters on the other side of the room: the ones covered with poorly dressed women and sports cars. “I mean, he has a girlfriend, and with all those pictures he keeps around here, I guess I always figured he was strictly interested in women. But he saw me googling sexuality terms a few weeks back, and told me I could ask him questions about it if I wanted to.” Makoto smiled sheepishly. “So I did. Tanaka-kun’s… brutally honest, and a little hard to handle, but he’s been really helpful. And he’s answered all of my questions, like he said he would. I’ve kinda been confiding in him for a while, and I doubt I would’ve been sure of anything without his help.” 

“Huh. He hasn’t tried anything with you, has he?” Sousuke asked warily, wincing at the obvious jealousy in his voice. Makoto’s eyes widened, before he snorted. 

“No, no. Tanaka-kun has a girlfriend, remember? And despite his… choice of media, he’s pretty faithful to her. I’ve met her, actually. She’s really nice.” Makoto gave him a look. “Besides, I’m not interested in Tanaka-kun, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m not worried,” Sousuke lied evenly. 

“Mm-hm.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Alright, alright. I believe you,” Makoto said, holding his hands up in surrender, despite the knowing look in his eye. He leaned forward to kiss Sousuke again, and Sousuke relaxed into his touch, lifting a hand to cup his face. Makoto purred against his mouth, tilting his head to the side to get a better angle, and Sousuke followed his example, deepening the kiss. He traced Makoto’s bottom teeth with his tongue, prompting a soft sigh. He felt Makoto pull away and scowled in disappointment, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk of triumph as Makoto maneuvered himself onto Sousuke’s lap, wrapping his legs around his waist and touching lips again. 

“I’m dating a hot pansexual boy,” Sousuke marvelled, once they separated enough for the words to leave his mouth. He ran his hands up and down Makoto’s back, the fabric of Makoto’s shirt dragging with the pressure of his fingers. “That’s pretty cool.” 

Makoto laughed, his face flushing. His arms snaked around Sousuke’s neck, pulling him closer. 

“Don’t get jealous of people, okay?” 

“I make no such promises.” Sousuke forced his expression to remain serious. “Just don’t leave me for a potato, okay?” 

Makoto slumped against his chest and buried his face in Sousuke’s neck, laughing uncontrollably all over again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke gets some bad news and Makoto is too sexy for his own good. <3  
> These chapters are getting so long... -_-;

“You know, for some crazy reason, I thought you’d start going easy on me.” Sousuke huffed and took another long drink from his water bottle, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He stuffed the bottle into his pocket and took a hold of the railing again, wincing with exhaustion as he climbed the dorm building stairs after Makoto. Even in the mass of studies and exams, Makoto never failed to drag him out of bed for a jog. Granted, they were running shorter distances to fit in more time for cramming, but it was an addition to Sousuke’s morning routine that he was not overly fond of. 

“Why would I start going easy on you?” Makoto asked, turning back on the stairwell to lift an eyebrow. His own breath was shallow, and his bangs clung to his forehead, but otherwise he looked practically exhilarated. If there was one thing Sousuke knew about Makoto, it was that exercise always improved his mood. Which was really saying something. He’d go from pleasantly cheery to a practical beam of sunlight. 

“Well, we’ve both been pretty busy lately,” Sousuke said with a shrug. He grudgingly followed Makoto up the stairs, leaning on the railing. His legs felt like they were on fire. “And I really thought it would be easier to distract you, now.” He sent Makoto a smirk. “Since you obviously find me so irresistible.” 

Makoto rolled his eyes, a touch of pink coming to his face. “Your confidence seems to have spiked, lately. And you were never really the most humble of people to begin with.” 

“Well, can you blame me?” Sousuke leaned forward and snagged the elastic of Makoto’s shorts, pulling him down to his stair. Makoto yelped in surprise as he was pressed against Sousuke’s chest, and Sousuke placed a kiss to his flushed cheek, nuzzling his damp hair with his nose. “Anybody would be confident, if they had managed to get somebody like you.”

“Oh my gods,” Makoto whined, covering his bright red face with a hand. Sousuke could feel his ears heat up against his cheek. “S-Sousuke…”

Sousuke laughed. He lifted his hand to cup Makoto’s hip, tugging him closer. The ghost of a smile came to his face as Makoto let out a small gasp, visibly shivering as his ass was pressed against Sousuke’s crotch. Sousuke maneuvered his free hand up to tease the front of Makoto’s tank-top, fingers massaging the sliver of bare, soft skin. 

“S-Sousuke, no…” Makoto said weakly. 

“Sousuke, yes,” Sousuke replied. He kissed Makoto’s cheek again, allowing his lips to trail down the elegant angle of Makoto’s jaw. 

“N-not in the middle of the stairway.” 

“Nobody’s around.” Sousuke huffed against Makoto’s skin. “I never see you. You’re always busy. You can hardly blame me for seizing the moment.” 

“That’s not true! We see each other all the time. And does it have to be this moment?” Makoto asked, fidgeting, “Anybody could see-” 

“I don’t care.” 

“But I do! T-there’s a time and a place!” Makoto pulled away, skirting up the next couple of stairs as if Sousuke’s touch burned. He quickly glanced up and down the staircase for any possible viewers, his face a bright scarlet. Sousuke scowled disappointedly up at him, which made him shift, guilt flashing in his green eyes. “Look, let’s just go up to my room.” 

“And if Tanaka is there?”

“...We can go to your room…?” 

Sousuke sighed. “No, Fujioka is always around in the mornings. Usually with a hangover.” 

Makoto’s shoulders slumped. He gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologize,” Sousuke said, resisting the urge to grumble. He climbed the couple stairs between them and hesitated, before grazing Makoto’s arm lightly and leaning forward to whisper in a low, seductive voice. “I just want to touch you all the time, is all.” 

“S-Sousuke,” Makoto whimpered, his face turning such a bright red that he looked as if he were about to implode. He turned away and touched his fingers to his lips, studying the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Shit. He was so fucking adorable that Sousuke had to lock up his muscles to keep from shoving him against the wall and kissing him breathless. It really didn’t help matters when Makoto let out a soft, hopeless groan that was much too sensual and covered his eyes with his hand. “What are you doing to me?” 

“Good things, I hope,” Sousuke said. He pulled away and sighed in frustration. “Damn you and your sexy, sweaty self.”

Makoto looked at him suddenly, his eyes widening and his cheeks darkening even further, if that was possible. He let out a short burst of laughter. “Sweaty? You’re seriously attracted to me when I’m sweaty?” 

“I’m always attracted to you, idiot,” Sousuke huffed, rolling his eyes and smiling despite himself. “Even when you’re sticky and tired.”

“Gross.” 

“What, you mean you aren’t attracted to me, right now?” Sousuke asked, cocking a hip and wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. Makoto swallowed and looked away, smiling sheepishly. 

“I didn’t say that…” he said, and Sousuke laughed. “It’s just that I don’t feel very sexy when I’m all sticky and tired. I just feel sticky and tired.” He shrugged, letting out a soft burst of laughter. “Who am I kidding? I never feel sexy, anyway. Not when I’m as clumsy as a baby horse.” 

Sousuke laughed again, his voice filling the stairwell. Makoto’s embarrassed look was replaced with a soft smile at the sound. He looked up and down the stairway again, before hesitantly taking Sousuke’s hand and leading him forward. Sousuke allowed himself to be tugged along, lifting his eyebrows at the sudden contact. 

“C’mon. Let’s go see if my dorm is free of bothersome roommates,” Makoto said. He paused and swallowed, a brief look of panic coming over his face. “Don’t tell Tanaka-kun I said that.” 

“Oh, right. Because Tanaka and I are totally besties.” 

“Shush. You know what I mean.” 

\---000---

Tanaka wasn’t home. 

It took maybe a couple seconds for Sousuke to make that conclusion, and a couple seconds more to seize Makoto by the hips and direct him to the bed. Makoto let out a surprised yelp, barely managing to close the door behind them before being led away. At Sousuke’s gentle push, he flopped back onto the mattress, catching himself on his elbows and blinking in pleasant surprise. A small, inviting smile came to his face as Sousuke crawled over him and forced their mouths to collide. 

Their lips slid and glided easily, like a sharpened pencil on a crisp sheet of paper. Sousuke trapped Makoto’s bottom lip between his own and sucked lightly, prompting a soft sigh that touched Sousuke’s skin and made his blood boil. He tilted his head into the kiss, greed swelling in his chest to swallow every bit of Makoto’s sweet, hot breath. He lowered himself onto his forearms, face down to keep their mouths entwined, and pressed his lower body against Makoto’s. Makoto lifted his legs, his thighs on either side of Sousuke’s hips, and cupped his face. There wasn’t room for flirting and teasing, now. Not when they were tangled up in each other’s tastes, in the way their hearts pounded in every place where they touched.

Makoto tasted like chocolate-chip mint chapstick and sweat. It was an odd combination, but Sousuke adored it, immediately hungry for more. He traced his tongue along Makoto’s lips, relishing the bittersweetness in his mouth. Makoto let out a ragged moan, tilting his chin up and parting his mouth further in invitation, his eyelashes lowered in pleasure. He massaged Sousuke’s cheekbones with his thumbs as Sousuke kissed him, pulling their already-tangled mouths closer, if that were possible. Sousuke dipped his tongue past Makoto’s lips and pressed against his teeth, and Makoto groaned, the hands on Sousuke’s cheeks moving to grasp his short hair. 

“Why… do you… taste so good?” Makoto panted, practically snarling. His fingers curled tighter in Sousuke’s hair, making Sousuke’s skull pleasantly sting. Sousuke moaned harshly in reply. He bit down on Makoto’s lip, and Makoto puffed, his velvety voice curling through the air. “Like… peppermint…” 

“It’s my toothpaste,” Sousuke said, unable to hold back a chuckle. He nipped at the delicate skin of Makoto’s lip, gentle enough not to tear the soft flesh, but hard enough to make Makoto wriggle with pleasure underneath him. 

“That’s good toothpaste,” Makoto breathed. He laughed lightly against Sousuke’s mouth, his fingers massaging and tightening in Sousuke’s hair. Sousuke let his lips drift to Makoto’s jaw, sucking and nipping until Makoto shivered. 

“You seem to... have a thing... for my hair,” he said, in between gentle bites. He felt Makoto smile.

“It’s so short and soft,” he said, his voice practically a whine. “And you make the cutest faces when I tug at it.” 

“I make… faces?” Sousuke grazed his tongue over the hot, tender skin beneath Makoto’s ear, and Makoto whimpered at the ticklish touch. 

“Mm hm. You kinda… close your eyes, and scrunch your eyebrows, as if you’re a dog being scratched behind the ear.” Makoto laughed at his own comparison, rubbing Sousuke’s scalp quicker as if to demonstrate. “Sometimes you hum, and I can practically see your tail wagging.” 

Sousuke angled his head back into Makoto’s strong grip with a chuckle. “Ruff, ruff.” 

Makoto laughed. He massaged deeper, and Sousuke bounced his leg against the mattress, like a dog that's sweet-spot is being scored. That only made Makoto laugh more, and Sousuke grinned at the sound, leaning down to kiss him again. 

“If I’m a dog, does that make you a cat?” he purred, when they separated. 

Makoto blinked, before letting out a soft snort. “A cat? I’ve been called a ‘hopeless puppy,’ before, but never a cat. I think I’m too clumsy.” He regarded Sousuke with an almost challenging look. “What makes me a cat?” 

“Well, for one, I don’t think you’re as clumsy as you think you are. You’ve got a polished backstroke that could cut through cinder blocks.” 

“Oh my gods, Sousuke.” 

“And you also do this thing when we’re making out,” Sousuke continued, deciding to ignore Makoto’s adorable blush. He shifted his weight onto one elbow and squished his free hand between Makoto and the mattress. It didn’t take long for him to find the small of Makoto’s back and gently rub the sensitive spot he’d discovered earlier. Makoto immediately bucked, pressing his stomach to Sousuke’s, a low whine escaping his lips. Sousuke grinned in triumph. “See? Like a cat getting its tail-bone scratched.” 

Makoto slumped back, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushing. “I didn’t even know I did that.” 

“Well, how would you know? Do people normally poke at your back?” 

“Sousuke, I’ve spent the last couple of years with Nagisa and Gou-chan. Of course people have poked at my back.” 

“Oh. I guess I can’t argue with that,” Sousuke said, wincing. Makoto smiled. He cupped the back of Sousuke’s head, fingers curling and uncurling in his hair. Sousuke instinctively closed his eyes and hummed, before realizing what he was doing and starting. Makoto burst into giggles. 

“You just did it! You literally just did the dog thing!” 

“Shut up, kitty-cat,” Sousuke growled, feeling heat come to his face. He rubbed the small of Makoto’s back again, and Makoto let out a strangled gasp, rolling his hips on what could only be instinct. 

Sousuke would’ve laughed, if the action hadn’t sensually pressed their crotches together hard and immediately distracted him. He swallowed and met Makoto’s bright green eyes, and they stared at each other for a moment, before Sousuke gave an experimental thrust in reply. Makoto’s expression dissolved into a serene blankness, his eyelashes lowering and a low moan leaving his lips. There was definitely a growing hardness in both of their groins, and Sousuke swallowed his own moan as Makoto pressed against him, angling his hips up so they rubbed together through their clothing. His muscles tensed, Sousuke let his head drop, his breath quickening. 

“...Do that again,” he demanded quietly. 

Makoto didn’t reply, but obeyed, rolling his hips again and pressing himself harder against Sousuke. Sousuke nearly choked on his own breath, a shudder passing through him. He grinded back, and Makoto whimpered with bliss. His eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted to release a sigh. 

They fell into a shaky rhythm, tangled and pressing against each other. Makoto’s fingers curled tighter in Sousuke’s hair, tugging with every movement of their hips. Their mouths found each other, and they exchanged breath shakily, lips grazing and sliding as they moved. It was as if their bodies were rippling against each other, and Sousuke had never felt more confined by his clothes in his entire life. His growing erection was quickly getting uncomfortable. He needed the layers between them to be gone, to be nonexistent. He needed to feel Makoto’s bare skin on his until they couldn’t distinguish who was in possession of what limbs. He needed Makoto to touch him, to tease him, to use that perfect mouth of his in unspeakable ways. 

“S-Sousuke…” Makoto huffed, pressing harder. From what Sousuke could feel, he wasn’t doing much better. His hands left Sousuke’s hair and moved to grip his waist, holding him still as they moved against each other. Makoto’s entire body rose and fell like the swelling of waves on the sand, the fabric of his tank top pulling across his muscled, tan torso. His rocking grew steadily stronger, and Sousuke nearly wheezed with the painful, wonderful pressure of their rubbing, clothed erections. He moaned, his hands curling into Makoto’s blankets. Their lips collided somewhere in the midst of the steady rocking, and Sousuke kissed him weakly, his breath short as Makoto’s thrusts grew more desperate, almost possessive. 

The fabric of the clothing between them was suffocating. If Sousuke’s muscles hadn’t been locked with tension, he would’ve ripped their pants off a long time ago. But Makoto’s movements were too hypnotizing, too fluid. They froze Sousuke in his place, and all he could do was remain poised over Makoto, practically shaking with the effort of staying up on his forearms as Makoto pressed their clothed cocks together with a strangely calm expression. 

“Mako, I…” Sousuke groaned, biting his lip hard. He jerked his hips roughly, his voice barely comprehensible. “C-careful, or you’ll make me…In my pants...” 

“I’ll… make you what, Sousuke?” Makoto panted, his green eyes hooded. His lips, slightly swollen from kissing, pursed with the effort of pushing harder against Sousuke. His hips rose and fell in an aggressive sway, and Sousuke could barely keep up with him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the feeling of Makoto’s stiffness. 

Sousuke swallowed, and offered a shaky smile. When he spoke, his voice was so raspy and thick that it was more of a wild dog’s growl. “I’d… hate to ruin your bed… Such nice covers…”

“Really? I’ve always… kind of hated them. Too plain.” Makoto smiled, his gaze sleepy. He licked his lips, and that action alone was enough to make Sousuke moan with desire. His fingers tugged at the elastic of Sousuke’s shorts, teasing the heated skin underneath. “They could use… a little something extra, don’t you think?” 

“You’re disgusting,” Sousuke choked out. He managed to bite at Makoto’s bottom lip, in hopes of distracting them both from the growing dilemma. “Have you always been such a minx, Makoto?” 

“I think I liked being a cat better,” Makoto purred. His fingers dug into Sousuke’s hips, his pace quickening. He nipped Sousuke back, his teeth lingering on Sousuke’s lip. Sousuke huffed, sharp desperation turning his blood to fire. He forced their mouths together sloppily, a whimper on his tongue as he grinded back hard. 

He needed Makoto so fucking badly that it hurt. 

It was almost laughable, the hold Makoto had on him. Sousuke had never been one for desperation, even in the most heated of moments. But something about Makoto turned him into a whimpering, snarling mess of a dog. (Makoto’s analogy had been strangely accurate.) He wanted to release his aggressions, to pin Makoto down and hold him still while he did wonderfully dirty things to him, but curiosity as to what Makoto would do next held him back like a leash. Sousuke was constantly torn between knocking Makoto around a little or waiting to see what Makoto was capable of. Because he was obviously capable of a lot. They’d never legitimately slept together, (making out hard and sucking on each other’s stomachs didn’t count, apparently,) but every touch was like an explosion of intimacy. Sousuke could’ve done nothing more than hold Makoto’s hand for months, and he’d be satisfied. 

But when Makoto was teasing him like this… when he was dangling their closeness in front of him like a chew-toy… Sousuke’s entire being burned with need. He dissolved into a hot mess. And Makoto seemed to eat it up, though Sousuke had no idea why. 

A cheery chiming cut them off, and Makoto and Sousuke both froze, lips pursed against one another and clothed erections rubbing. They remained still for a moment and listened, trying to make sense of the happy little tune that filled the dorm room. 

“... Sousuke?” Makoto said after a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“...Yeah?” 

“Is that your phone?”

“Um, possibly.” His skin prickling with frustration and embarrassment, Sousuke reached into his pocket and fumbled to take out his phone. Sure enough, it buzzed excitedly in his hand, blurting out the stupid, looping music and glowing with an unknown phone number. Sousuke had never wanted to destroy something with his bare hands more. 

“Is it Rin?” Makoto asked, relaxing against the mattress and letting his hips fall. He flushed, and gave a sheepish smile. “Can you tell him that we’re busy?” 

“It’s not Rin. I don’t know who it is,” Sousuke said honestly. He scowled at the number in hopes of remembering it, but came up short. He’d always been bad with memory. “Should I answer it, or just let it ring?” 

“It might be important,” Makoto said. He frowned thoughtfully. “No offense, Sousuke, but besides me and Rin, who else would be calling you?” 

“... I gave Nanase my number, a couple weeks ago,” Sousuke offered, although he doubted Nanase even checked his email voluntarily, much less called people. 

Makoto took the buzzing phone and inspected the number, before shaking his head. “It’s not Haru. I still don’t understand why you two swapped numbers to begin with.” 

“We told you. Surveillance.” Sousuke sat back on Makoto’s hips and inspected the number. “I have no idea who it could be.” 

“Well, it’s going to stop ringing, soon, so if you’re going to answer it, you should do it now.” 

“I thought we were busy.” 

“We can hold off for a mystery caller,” Makoto said, sitting up. He tilted his head and blinked up at Sousuke like an intrigued puppy. “It could be serious, after all.”

Scowling, Sousuke answered the call with a swipe of his finger and held the phone to his ear, shifting on Makoto’s lap, (and taking note of Makoto’s obvious boner.) “Hello?” 

“Sousuke? What took you so long?It’s been ringing for five minutes,” a familiar, feminine voice whined on the other end, and Sousuke immediately stiffened, his eyes widening. 

“...Mom?” he asked incredulously, inwardly praying it wasn’t true. Makoto blinked in surprise up at him, sudden panic taking a hold of his attractive features. He more or less shoved Sousuke off of him and scooted away, as if Sousuke’s mother had seen their position and was about to lecture them about safety and sex before marriage.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s been awhile since we talked, huh?” Yamazaki Kano said, her voice weirdly light. 

Sousuke felt a natural glower fall over his face. “How’d you get my number?” 

“Your father, obviously. Why? Am I not allowed to know my son’s number? Is that a new thing, these days?” Familiar sarcasm dripped from Kano’s voice, and Sousuke resisted the urge to groan with an annoyance he hadn’t felt for a while. 

“That’s not what I meant, mom. You’ve just never called before.” 

“Sure I have. I called last year, at christmas. You were with your friend… Rui, right?” 

“Rin.” 

“Yeah, that one. I knew it was something girly like that. He was always such a nice boy… And so handsome. I told his mother, again and again, that he had the stuff to pursue a life in modelling for our company, but she was always pretty stubborn with the whole ‘follow-your-dreams,’ crap. I remember telling her that I didn’t want to tell her how to raise her kid, but that being realistic to her child’s natural gifts would pay off in the future. He was such a mama’s boy, too. But, then again, what else could he be? Ugh, that really was awful, what happened-” 

“Mom. Why are you calling me?” Sousuke said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He gave Makoto an apologetic look. Listening to his mother’s voice was turning his dick soft at an impressive speed. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, here.” 

“What could be more important than your mother?” Kano demanded, sounding genuinely offended. “And do I need a reason to check up with my ailing son?”

“I’m not ailing, mom.”

“Honey, you’ve got a horrible shoulder and you’re in college. Of course you’re ailing.” 

Sousuke set his jaw, attempting to keep his voice level. “Then why haven’t you checked up on your ‘ailing son’ before? You’ve never seemed all that bothered by our lack of contact.” 

“That’s because I know I annoy you, Sousuke. And you annoy me. Don’t try to make yourself the victim, kiddo, because I’ve dealt with enough whiners today.” She cleared her throat and continued before Sousuke could send back a sharp reply. “Have you been taking your medication? Keeping in shape? Resting your shoulder? Staying caught up in school?” 

“Yes,” Sousuke grunted, determining that this would go faster if he didn’t fight it. 

“Yes to just one of those, or to all of them?” 

“All of them.” 

“...Good. I’ve been in touch with your doctor, as well. He says you’re doing good, and mentioned something about a friend helping you out…?” 

“Yes. Tachibana Makoto.” 

Makoto perked up at the mention of his name, his face going pale with silent terror. He looked hopelessly uncomfortable, an obvious tent still in his pants. The poor thing. 

“Well, whoever he is, he knows what he’s doing. Your doctor says that the tendons in your shoulder are mending nicely, and that you’re staying in shape and exercising despite that. Kudos to your friend.” 

Sousuke gave a tiny smile and met Makoto’s gaze. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” 

“Good. You’re being grateful, yes? Not letting him do this for you without any thanks?” 

“I’ve paid his weight in noodles by now.” 

“Well, he deserves it. Honestly, what kind of person goes out of their way to do something like that for so long? Either he’s in love with you, or you intimidated him into helping you,” Kano said with a chuckle. Sousuke swallowed, heat rising to his face. He quickly looked away from Makoto and his questioning expression. “Speaking of love, have you met any cute girls? Or boys, if you’re still doing that bisexual thing?” 

“Mom. Please don’t.” 

“It’s natural for me to be interested in this sort of thing, apparently. Though I can’t say I see the point. I don’t know about other moms, but I’d rather not know who you may or may not be sexually attracted to. It gives me this weird feeling. Like imagining your grandparents naked, or something like that… Shit. Sousuke, please don’t imagine your grandparents naked. I apologize profusely if I put that image in your head.” 

“Mom. Please. I am begging you to get to the point,” Sousuke said, massaging his temple with his free hand. He glanced up at Makoto, and Makoto offered him a clueless, sweet smile. Shit. He wanted to fuck him so badly, right now. 

“...The point?” 

“Yes!” Sousuke snapped, “I’m in the middle of something, and I don’t believe for a second that you don’t have ulterior motives.” 

Kano snorted. “That’s awfully rude to say to your mother, Sousuke. What’s so important, anyway?” 

“Studying,” Sousuke lied easily. Makoto flushed bright red, obviously needing no context to understand what Kano had asked. “I have an exam tomorrow.” 

“Hm. That’s awfully responsible of you. Did your friend make you do that, too?” 

Sousuke smirked. “Possibly.” 

“Shit. It sounds like he’s doing my job for me.”

“Somebody’s got to.” 

“...That is a low blow, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke scowled. “You basically laid that out in front of me and tied it with a pretty ribbon.” 

Kano sighed. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re feeling neglected, and you’re sulking because your mommy hasn’t been taking care of you recently. I’ll make sure to call more often, if that’s what you’d like.” 

“Don’t. I’m just not a huge fan of you calling and pretending like I’m some teenage girl who wants to tell you everything,” Sousuke snapped, not bothering to keep control of his tone anymore. Makoto flinched and looked down, his cheeks red. 

“You would make a horrible teenage girl, kiddo,” Kano said. 

Sousuke resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. “What do you want, mom?” 

Kano sighed. “...Look, I just wanted to talk to you about your father.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Why?” 

“He was arrested yesterday.” 

Sousuke’s entire body stiffened. He swallowed and waited for her to continue, but all that touched his ear was silence. He barked out a humorless laugh and stood, running a hand through his hair. “Mom, what the hell. Is this a joke?” 

“Unfortunately not,” Kano said. 

“You’re serious.” 

“Yes, I am. Look, I’m not sure how caught up you are with everyone’s recent arrangements, but these last couple weeks, Natsuo hired this guy with some really good connections. A real people-worker. His name is Tomomi, or something along those lines.”

“Yeah, okay, but what happened? Why are people being arrested?” 

“Well, it so happens that Tomomi-kun might’ve been a little too good at his job. He sort of… got wind of some illegal information involving one of the stocks your father is in possession of, and might’ve tipped him off about it. That’s what I gather, at least. I haven’t been able to get in touch with either of them. The only reason I know they’ve been arrested at all is because the force was gracious enough to call me about it.” Kano’s voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. 

Sousuke swallowed. “Illegal information… Like, insider trading?” 

“Apparently.” 

Sousuke instinctively relaxed a little. “Well, that’s not so bad, right? It could’ve been a lot worse. You scared me, there.” 

“I suppose, but there’s definitely going to be a trial. The company involved is infuriated, to say the least. If I’m being completely honest, I’m a little disappointed that they let themselves be caught. There’s definitely a couple separate parties involved, here.” 

“You’re going to have to give me specifics, mom.” 

“Sousuke, I don’t have specifics. Everything I know I’ve pretty much already said. Keiko isn’t answering my calls, and I’m not even sure if she knows.” Kano sighed. “Look, I know you’re a busy boy, and all that. Doing good in school and taking care of yourself. I probably would’ve let you go on not knowing for a while, if not for your father’s plans.” 

Sousuke frowned. “My father’s plans.” 

“Of inheriting the company, Sousuke. This isn’t going to look good for any future relations. Any possible plans for merging have pretty much gone out the window. It’s going to be a long time until you’re going to deal with this sort of thing yourself, but I felt that you should be aware of what’s happening with your heritance.” She paused, and let out an amused chuckle. “And your family, of course.” 

“...Well, I’m glad you told me, I guess,” Sousuke said, swallowing. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair again, wandering around the small space of the dorm room. He decided not to dwell on the familiar stab of pain at being reminded of his last-minute plans for life. “What do you think is going to happen?” 

“I really don’t know, kiddo. I’m not even sure if Tomomi and Natsuo are okay,” Kano said. She sounded exhausted. The tired tone of her voice took Sousuke back to his childhood, of waiting by the door for her to come home so he could tell her about what he and Rin did that day. He could practically feel her ruffling his hair and asking him kindly to tell her later, because ‘mommy was so very tired and needed to take a nap.’ Her voice had also sounded like this after screaming at a teenage Keiko until both of their throats were raw. Dark nights had been spent with Sousuke’s head shoved under his pillow, trying to block out the sounds of his sister and mother shouting horrible things and making the entire house shake with the slamming of their doors. And then Kano would drag her feet as she came into Sousuke’s room to kiss him goodnight, and tell him that everything was okay and Keiko was just being a bit of a sourpuss. She entertained him with stories about how she and Keiko would see who could shout the loudest, and the winner would get to tuck Sousuke in. 

Kano always won. 

Sousuke inwardly scoffed in a mixture of amusement and disgust. His childhood had been pretty damn weird. 

He couldn’t help looking at Makoto. As far as he knew, Makoto’s childhood had been the type that existed mostly in movies. Two loving, doting parents, a couple of twin siblings, living in a house by the beach with his best friend just next door… That’s the life Sousuke knew of, at least. Who knew what Makoto’s family was really like. Makoto had gushed about them to him on multiple occasions, but nobody was perfect. And Makoto had a tendency to sugar-coat the truth for those he cared about, anyway. 

Makoto watched him with concerned, vivid green eyes, his head tilting to the side as he followed Sousuke’s half of the conversation. He looked as if he wanted to say something, to ask what Sousuke’s replies meant, but didn’t want to interrupt or even hint to his existence. 

“Sousuke? You there?” Kano asked, her voice annoyed. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry. Spaced out a little bit.” 

Kano gave a small, sympathetic grunt. “It’s a lot to take in. It’s not every day you’re told your father’s been arrested.”

“Should I be worried for dear old dad?” Sousuke asked, half sarcastically and half sincerely. 

“I don’t know. I doubt it, if I’m honest,” Kano said, “Insider trading is hardly worth more than a couple months in jail, and that’s a worse-case scenario. I’m more concerned with how Natsuo’s pride is going to hold up. He’s always been a bit of a baby. And an ego-maniac. There’s a decent chance he’ll wring Tomomi-kun’s neck, if he hasn’t already.” 

“He’s in contact with his lawyer?” 

Kano snorted. “You keep asking questions as if I haven’t already told you that I don’t know.” 

“Sorry for being moderately worried,” Sousuke snapped, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, be smarter about it,” Kano said with a humorless laugh. She paused, before clearing her throat and continuing. “Hey… Do me a favor, okay?” 

“Uh oh.” 

“Don’t you sass me, Sousuke. Not before I’ve even asked,” Kano said, obviously irritated. “Look, just… Let me take care of this, okay? Don’t worry about it. I called to keep you updated to an extent, but I don’t want you doing anything stupid because you’re ‘dad’s a criminal,’ or whatever. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Sousuke scowled. “That’s hardly a favor. I probably would’ve done that, anyway.”

“I know,” Kano said, in a soft voice. She chuckled. “You’re a smart kid, Sousuke. I just… I can never be sure what’s going to bother you. Part of me thinks you’re really indifferent, and part of me thinks that you’re just playing along so I won’t worry.” 

“I’m not a kid.” 

“No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I guess. I just get concerned, you know?” 

“You have a weird way of showing it,” Sousuke said, before he could stop himself. He winced as Kano gave an exhausted, pained sigh. 

“Yeah. I passed that down to you, if you haven’t noticed.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a humorless smirk. “I noticed.” 

“Hard not to, huh?” 

“...Yeah.” 

Kano sighed again. “Alright, then. I’ll talk to you later, okay? More information is bound to roll around. If the media hasn’t gotten word of this already, you can be sure that it will. I’ll try to keep you posted on your father’s situation.” She paused. “I love you, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke swallowed before grunting out an uncomfortable reply. “Love you too, mom.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

The call went dead, and Sousuke sighed, letting the hand holding the phone drop from his ear. He slumped back onto the bed and shut his eyes tight, letting the phone sit screen-down on his chest. The mattress creaked as Makoto moved closer to him, his reassuring warmth immediately sending shivers up Sousuke’s spine. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked gently. He hesitated. “Was… Was that really your mom?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” For some reason, Makoto sounded surprised. Sousuke opened his eyes and gave him a weird look, and Makoto laughed nervously. “Sorry. Just… the way you spoke to her wasn’t what I expected. You two must be pretty close, if you can talk so openly with each other.” 

“Um, no. It’s more like the opposite,” Sousuke said.

“A-ah.” Makoto flushed and looked away. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine. I could see why you’d think that,” Sousuke replied. He let out a short chuckle. “Now that I’m sorta an adult, we pretty much can be assholes to each other all we want. When we talk, that is.” 

“...I don’t mean to pry, but what was all that stuff about insider trading?” Makoto asked, obviously hurrying to change the topic. Sousuke was glad he did. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle any more apologies and weird questions that he didn’t have the answers to. “I remember reading something like that to you when we were studying. Something about non-public information being illegally exchanged…?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Sousuke huffed and glared at the ceiling. “My dad was just arrested for it, apparently.” 

Makoto didn’t reply at first. He watched Sousuke’s face with a blank expression for a couple moments, before utter horror made him jump, causing the bed to lurch. 

“W-what? Are you serious?!”

Sousuke scowled at nothing in particular. “Yeah.” 

“Y-your dad’s going to jail?” Makoto yelped. He clutched at his face, his green eyes widening. “Holy crap. H-holy crap, Sousuke. What are you going to do? What about your family’s company? Is your dad going to be ok-” 

“Whoa, whoa,” Sousuke sat up, laughing anxiously and taking Makoto by the shoulders. He shook him until he fell silent. Makoto’s blubbering dwindled into nervous, terrified whimpering, his eyes wide and so genuinely concerned that it made Sousuke want to wrap him in a mountain of comfy quilts. He settled with offering a poor excuse for a comforting smile. “Really, Makoto. It’s not that big of a deal. He was arrested, not thrown in prison. This kind of thing happens all the time.” 

Annoyance joined the mixture of emotions on Makoto’s face. “No it doesn’t! Don’t you try and fool me, Sousuke. I’ve read most of your reading assignments out loud to you. I know what insider trading is.”

Sousuke winced. “Well…” 

“Is your mom okay? What’s going to happen to the business?”

“My mom’s fine,” Sousuke said. At least, as far as he knew she was. He probably could’ve asked her about how she was doing with this. “And I think the company’ll be okay. There will definitely be drawbacks, but my parents have earned enough respect and profit over the years that it should be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Makoto studied him closely, his eyebrows pulled together, as if he expected Sousuke to burst into tears or start screaming. “And… What about you? Are you…?” 

“Eh. I’m okay.” Sousuke shrugged. “I mean, my dad was arrested, and that’s never exactly good news, but I can’t really do anything about that. And it’s not as if he can’t take care of himself. To be honest, I’m more frustrated than worried. The damn bastard probably deserved it.”

Makoto flinched. “Sousuke…” 

Sousuke let out a short, humorless laugh. “He is, though. A damn bastard, I mean.”

Makoto didn’t reply. Discomfort flashed across his features at hearing Sousuke’s description, and he shuffled closer on his knees, wrapping his arms around Sousuke’s neck. Sousuke blinked in surprise at the sudden embrace, but returned the hug, bringing Makoto closer to him. He buried his nose into Makoto’s soft, citrus-smelling hair and smiled. They pulled apart far enough to press their lips together chastely. 

“I’m sorry,” Makoto murmured, when they separated. He rested his face back into the crook of Sousuke’s neck, his warm breath making Sousuke’s skin prickle. He held him tighter and closed his eyes. “That really, really sucks.”

“Not your fault. It’s-” 

“That damn bastard’s fault?” 

Sousuke smirked. “Yeah.” 

“Well, that doesn’t make me any less sorry,” Makoto insisted, laughing a little. He clung to Sousuke a little tighter. “I-if you want to, you could cry, you know.” 

Sousuke scoffed. “I’m not going to cry, Makoto.”

“Just letting you know that you could. Because you can. You could cry into next week, and I wouldn’t think any less of you.” 

“I really don’t have any intentions of crying,” Sousuke said, chuckling. The thought of crying over something as stupid as this was oddly amusing. “This is just… This is just another thing that I’ll get to carry around for a little bit. Just another thing to motivate me to not be as much of an asshole as my dad. Besides, I’ll probably forget about it by tomorrow, knowing my memory.” 

Makoto laughed. “Yeah. You’ve got really bad memory.” 

Sousuke didn’t reply, but grinned, resting his cheek against Makoto’s hair. His gaze wandered to the window, and he studied the silver tendrils of rain clouds that were beginning to gather over the city. Thunder grumbled in the distance, nothing more than a distant murmur. 

“It looks like rain,” he commented. Makoto looked up and sat back to follow his gaze out the window. A fond smile came to his face. 

“It does.” 

Sousuke wrinkled his nose teasingly. “Maybe the sky is crying for me.” 

“Maybe it is,” Makoto said. He hummed and closed his eyes. “I love the rain.” 

“Eh. Too wet.” 

Makoto chuckled. “Don’t let Haru hear you say that.” 

Sousuke puffed out his chest dramatically. “I’m not scared of him.” 

“I’m glad,” Makoto said, hugging Sousuke close again. He whispered the words into Sousuke’s skin, and the heat of his lips and breath blossomed throughout Sousuke’s entire body. He closed his eyes and held Makoto loosely around the waist. 

Rain began to steadily fall.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> messy kissing and poetry ;3; These chapters are getting two long omg somebody stop me

It rained for a week, which meant no jogging. 

Sousuke was, naturally, delighted. No jogging meant sleeping in. It meant warm mornings snuggled under his covers, his mind drifting lazily between sleep and consciousness. It meant more time to study and cram for exams, and it meant Makoto coming up to his room all huffy and desperate for cuddles because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. 

Poor Makoto didn’t seem to know how to feel about the weather. One moment he’d be complaining to Sousuke about the dent in their regimen without jogging, and the next he’d be blurting sleepy, poetic descriptions of the rain on the window’s glass and the sound of thunder in the distance. He’d gotten used to jogging first thing in the morning, so he took the opportunity to come up to Sousuke’s room and snuggle up with his notebook. Sousuke loved it. There was nothing better than drifting off with his arms around Makoto’s waist, the soft pitter patter of rain outside, and the lullaby of Makoto’s thoughtful murmuring as he scribbled and scratched his pen over coarse paper. He almost didn’t care that Fujioka was usually there, too, on the opposite bed, sporting a severe hangover and squinting at his study material as if it had just insulted his grandparents. 

Sousuke decided that rainy days in the dorms were the best. 

On the eighth consecutive day of rain, (a Saturday, thankfully,) Sousuke spent the day studying on his bed, surrounded by piles of textbooks and notes. Makoto had somehow found room in the chaos to lay on his back, holding a book above his bespectacled face and absently humming as Sousuke worked. 

Sousuke found himself constantly distracted by the rise and fall of Makoto’s chest, by the way he licked his chapped lips and smiled softly when he read something he found funny or sweet. It was impossible to focus when Makoto was laying like that, his long limbs sprawled out like a relaxed cat’s, the birthmarks on his thighs peeking out from his basketball shorts. His green eyes skimmed over the page of his book lazily, affectionately, as if he were studying the face of a loved one. His bangs had flopped back, away from his forehead and across the pillow, making it look as if he had a halo of golden chestnut hair. The hem of his t-shirt rode up to reveal a smooth, chiselled stomach, the soft skin appearing honeyed and sculpted, and the misty light of the rain outside created shadows of falling drops over his body, like the pulsing, silver heartbeat of the storm captured on his face and chest. 

It was ridiculous to expect anything short of ogling in wonder, really. 

“Sousuke, you’re staring at me, again,” Makoto said gently, not looking away from his book. Sousuke jolted out of his thoughts, realizing that he’d been clinging to his notes so hard that they crinkled beneath his fingers. Makoto glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “C’mon, Sousuke. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go enjoy the weather.” 

Sousuke snorted. He nodded to the rain and lifted an eyebrow. “You want to enjoy this weather?” 

“Of course. Rain is my favorite,” Makoto said simply. He shifted, and the shadows of the raindrops on his chest rippled. He set the book down across his collar and hummed. “You can do so much in the rain. We can go get hot chocolate at the coffee shop. Maybe borrow an umbrella from Tanaka-kun and take a walk through the park. Or find a dry bench and sit and talk and write.” 

“Mm. That sounds nice.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Makoto sighed, closing his eyes. He smiled and stretched across the mattress, his lean body arching with the effort. His knees bent and he brought his legs up and rested them against the wall, his waist twisting in an attempt to crack his back. The hem of his shirt rode up further to reveal more of his muscled, perfect stomach. The silhouettes of the raindrops outside make his bare skin look as if it were dripping with silver. Sousuke swallowed hard. 

“Hold still,” he demanded gently, placing a hand on Makoto’s hip as he took his phone out. Makoto gave him a confused look. 

“Why?” 

“I want to take a picture of you,” Sousuke said, in all honesty. 

Makoto immediately flushed pink. He tried to wriggle away, but Sousuke kept one hand on his hip in a determined grip, shuffling closer and opening the camera app. 

“Sousuke…” Makoto whined, “Why do you want to-?” 

“Because you look fucking gorgeous,” Sousuke said. Makoto groaned and covered his blushing face with his hands, and Sousuke quickly swatted them away. “Don’t cover your face. I want to see your eyes.” 

“M-my eyes?”   
“Yeah. The raindrop shadows make them look so green that it’s like being punched in the gut.” 

Makoto let out a nervous burst of laughter. “You’re so weird.” 

“Just hold still and do what you were doing before,” Sousuke said.

“...What was I doing before?” 

“You were all stretched out with your legs against the wall and your shirt up,” Sousuke said. He gently touched Makoto’s knee and guided it back into the position it had been in before. Makoto allowed himself to be directed, his eyes flashing with curiosity. He didn’t protest when Sousuke lifted his shirt higher, until the hem bunched across his collarbone to reveal a pair of milk-chocolate nipples and freckled pectorals. Sousuke sat back on his heels to admire his work, fixed Makoto’s glasses in the slightest, and snapped a couple of pictures. Makoto grew redder with each one. 

“W-why so many?” he asked, fidgeting. He obviously was fighting the urge to cover his face with his hands again. Sousuke ignored him and kept snapping pictures from various angles. “Sousuke…” 

“Aesthetic,” Sousuke replied. He placed a hand on Makoto’s stomach and flattened his palm against it, interested by the difference of shade of their skin. Makoto was tanner, but not by much. Freckles also dotted his chest from years of swimming backstroke. Compared to him, Sousuke’s skin was a pale, blank sheet of paper. Sousuke wasn’t sure if was jealous or appreciative. Maybe both. 

“Okay, okay. Enough,” Makoto said after a couple more pictures, his cheeks scarlet. He sat up, and Sousuke resisted a growl of protest when his shirt fell back over his stomach. Makoto gave him a determined look and slipped his own phone out. “My turn.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows, a smirk fighting its way to his face. “Oho, ho, ho.” 

“J-just lay down, dummy.” 

Sousuke obeyed, his skin prickling with excitement and affection, and the two switched spots: Sousuke sprawled out against the wall and Makoto sitting back to get a good angle.

“Your wish is my command,” Sousuke purred. “What will you have me do for my photo shoot?” 

“Hm…” Makoto pouted thoughtfully. He hesitated, before gently taking one of Sousuke arms and moving it up to rest against his forehead. The other was led to his lower abdomen and laid flat, fingers teasing the elastic of his boxers that poked past his jeans. Makoto guided one corner of his shirt up and secured it against his collarbone, revealing one nipple and about half of Sousuke’s chest. He tapped Sousuke’s chin in a silent demand to tilt it up. 

“This is very suggestive,” Sousuke said, chuckling. Makoto sat back on his heels to test the camera, his face pinkening further at Sousuke’s words. 

“Like yours was any better,” he said. 

“I’m not saying mine wasn’t suggestive. I’m just a little surprised at your…” 

“Aesthetic?” Makoto finished for him, looking up and cocking an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” Sousuke smiled. His heart did a happy little skip. 

“Mm, keep smiling like that. I love your smile,” Makoto said, holding the phone up and snapping a couple pictures. Sousuke winced and tried to keep the smile for as long as possible, but it didn’t last very long, and his face naturally fell back into a neutral glower after a couple moments. Makoto pouted. “Sousuke, smile. It makes your eyes look so nice.” 

“I can’t. My face wasn’t meant to smile for extended periods of time.” 

“That’s not true…” Makoto said, pouting. 

“Here. I have an idea.” Sousuke sat up carefully, so as not to mess up the alignment of his lifted shirt, and guided Makoto’s glasses off of his face. He laid back down and returned to his position, this time with the end of the glasses pinched between his teeth seductively, his glare naturally returning and staring the camera down as if it had mildly offended him. Makoto flushed a bright red. He seemed to visibly shudder at the sight. 

“T-that’s good,” he said, swallowing. His ears turned a vicious shade of pink as he took a couple more pictures, and Sousuke held the pose until he seemed satisfied. 

“Can I sit up, now?” he asked around the glasses end. 

“Mm-hm.” Makoto sat back and scrolled through his photos, biting his lip. He deleted some and saved some to a folder. His thumb paused on a certain picture, and he held it up for Sousuke to see. “That one is my favorite.” 

It was one of the first pictures, when Sousuke’s smile had still lingered. Sousuke had to admit, he looked good. The shadow his arm cast over his eyes in the picture just made them look more startling, and Makoto had gotten the perfect angle for his chest, catching the light of the storm outside and making him look metallic.

“Well, shit. I’m hot,” Sousuke laughed. “Now I can be sure that you’re going out with me for my body.”

“I’m not g-going out with you because of your body!” Makoto said, his expression horrified and a little insulted. He flushed pink. “I mean, you’re attractive, of course, but that’s not-”

“Oh? What else could it be? My sparkling personality?” Sousuke snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, yeah,” Makoto mumbled. He looked away and bit his lip, his entire face a rosy shade of pink. Sousuke blinked at him, his smirk fading. “I… I really like you. I like you a lot. If I didn’t like you for your personality, I wouldn’t have spent so much time with you before we started going out.” He laughed nervously. “Well… Maybe I would’ve, if you had been insistent. I’m not very good at saying no to people, regardless if I care for them or not.” He groaned and covered his face with his hand. “L-look, I’m just trying to say that I like you. You-your attractive, both inside and out.”

“Shit, Makoto. I was just joking.” 

“I-I know…” Makoto’s shoulders slumped. He laughed again. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, you damn sweetheart,” Sousuke said. He ruffled Makoto’s hair and shuffled closer, bringing his own phone out so that Makoto could see the pictures he had taken of him. 

Makoto let out a short burst of laughter as Sousuke scrolled through his gallery, his voice an octave higher. “I look ridiculous.” 

“You look good,” Sousuke corrected.

“You seriously find this attractive? It looks like I’m trying way too hard. I look like a nerd.” 

“A very sexy nerd,” Sousuke said, and Makoto looked away from him and groaned, covering his face with one hand. Sousuke smiled and glanced back at his phone, promptly making his favorite photo his lock screen when Makoto was turned away. 

A sudden flash of lightning outside lit up the dorm, and Sousuke and Makoto both jumped. Something warm and hard (Makoto,) suddenly latched onto Sousuke, knocking the breath out of him and nearly causing his phone to topple out of his hands. He held onto it tightly as thunder roared to life somewhere above their heads, it’s boom loud enough to shake the dorm building down to its roots. Makoto let out a short gasp, his arms wrapping around Sousuke’s waist and desperately tugging him closer. Soft hair tickled Sousuke’s neck as he buried his face inbetween Sousuke’s shoulder blades, his breath quick. 

“That nearly gave me a heart attack,” he whispered against Sousuke’s shirt. 

“...Yeah. It must’ve been right above us.” 

“You do-don’t think it struck the building, do you?” Makoto said. he clung to Sousuke a little tighter, his legs wrapping around his waist from behind. 

“No. We definitely would’ve lost power if that were the case,” Sousuke said. He craned his neck to look back at Makoto. “I thought you liked rain.” 

“I do. But thunder always scares the hell out of me,” Makoto replied. He laughed sheepishly. “I have a love-hate relationship with storms. Lightning is pretty, and I like rain and big storm clouds, but I’m too jumpy for thunder.” 

Another rumble shook the building, and the lamplight from Fujioka’s desk flickered. Makoto held Sousuke tighter, gasping again. Sousuke couldn’t decide if he found it hopelessly adorable or hopelessly heart-wrenching. 

“Hey. C’mere,” he said, easing himself away from Makoto’s possessive arms and turning so they sat side by side. He pulled Makoto close and shuffled them back, so they rested against the wall, their legs tangled among Sousuke’s discarded study material. Makoto tensed, but relaxed against him after a moment. He rested his head against Sousuke’s shoulder. Soft chestnut strands tickled Sousuke’s cheek and lips. The wind howled outside, joining the chorus of thunder and the pounding of rain. Fujioka’s light flickered again, and Sousuke wondered if the university had a backup power supply. 

“You’re warm,” Makoto mumbled after a moment. He snuggled closer to Sousuke and craned his neck back, his sweet breath touching Sousuke’s lips. “And you smell nice.”   
Sousuke closed his eyes and hummed. “You once said I smell like the ocean.” 

“You smell like a lot of things,” Makoto mused, more to himself it seemed than to Sousuke. “Like waves and sunscreen and sun. Your breath always smells like peppermint because of your toothpaste, even after you eat something strong, like doritos. Kissing you is like taking a sip of cool water during a hot day, because you taste like the cold but you smell like the heat. It’s kinda funny. Disorienting.” His voice grew breathy and dreamy, like it did when he was slipping into a creative revelry. He sighed through his nose and closed his eyes. He didn’t even flinch when another boom of thunder echoed from the sky outside. “Your hair smells like clean sheets. Maybe because you bury your head in your pillow when you sleep and ruffle it around all night. I think that’s why it’s so soft, too. And spiky. Like a porcupine, but with fluff instead of quills.” 

Sousuke laughed and shook his head. “Fluff instead of quills.” 

“Mm. I once knew a stray cat named Nellie with fur that stuck out in spikes, like your hair in the morning. She wasn’t anything like you, though. She was a total snuggle-bug, and meowed and purred to anybody that would give her the time of day.” 

Sousuke snorted.”That doesn’t sound like me.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Makoto said, laughing lightly. He looked out the window, his eyebrows coming together. “I hope they’re all okay.” 

“...Who?” 

“You know, the stray cats and dogs, with no homes or owners to look out for them in a storm,” Makoto said. He sighed painfully. “It must be terrifying, being alone in the middle of this, surrounded by a different species and all of the buildings and cars.” 

A hopeless smile forced its way to Sousuke’s face. He chuckled and shook his head, warmth filling his entire being as he hugged Makoto tighter. Makoto looked at him in surprise.

“What?” 

“Nothing. It’s just… That’s just like you, to worry about stuff like that,” Sousuke said. 

Makoto’s eyebrows furrowed further. “Aren’t you worried about them?” 

“Well, yeah. Now I am, since you mentioned it. But I probably wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t said anything,” Sousuke said. He touched noses with Makoto. “You’re more considerate than I am. You’re more considerate than most people, really.” 

“...Oh.” Makoto looked away, his face pinkening in the dim light. He hesitated, before craning his neck again to press a warm kiss to Sousuke’s lips. Sousuke complied happily, lifting one hand to cup Makoto’s face and hold him still, before guiding their mouths open. Makoto twisted around to kiss him better. Their lips moved together naturally, breaths being exchanged to the rhythm of the storm and the flickering of the lamp on Fujioka’s desk. Makoto sighed against Sousuke’s mouth. His tongue pressed against Sousuke’s bottom teeth, as if testing their strength, and Sousuke gave a soft moan. He rested his own tongue against Makoto’s, touching his top teeth gently. Careful fingertips rested against his collarbone, and Makoto moved one leg over Sousuke’s waist, settling into his lap.

Lightning flashed and spat across the sky outside, and the wind howled more furiously, as if urging their pace to quicken. Sousuke kissed Makoto hard, parting their lips wide and breathing in as much of Makoto’s taste and scent as he could. He kissed Makoto’s chin, his jaw, his neck, hands rubbing beneath Makoto’s shirt and clutching at his soft skin. Makoto’s fingers moved from his collarbone up to curl in his hair. Sousuke felt a familiar, wonderful sting in his skull as Makoto tugged. They rocked against each other, back and forth, with the movement of their lips and the fall of the rain. Sousuke’s mind went blank of thought. All he could comprehend was sensation. How Makoto’s skin felt, how he tasted, how he smelled, how he sounded. Makoto was a tsunami of delightful experiences that made Sousuke immediately brain-numb. 

“Sou,” Makoto panted, and just hearing him say that was enough to make Sousuke moan. The way Makoto said that little nickname… As if it were a jewel resting on his tongue. As if it was an object of reverence, as if merely dropping the last syllable of Sousuke’s name was an unspeakable honor that he wasn’t worthy of. 

“Mako,” Sousuke replied, his voice low and ragged. He sounded hungry, desperate. The winds picked up again, and Sousuke and Makoto became a mess of lips and limbs, grasping and tugging at each other with utter disregard for Sousuke’s studying material. Makoto forced Sousuke onto his back and moved on top of him, crouching down to kiss any piece of Sousuke he could get his lips on. His mouth left scalding marks on Sousuke’s skin, each shattered breath another burn that made Sousuke’s blood boil. He was aware of Makoto clasping his wrists gently and pinning them over his head to the mattress, a surprising show of dominance that was much too sexy for its own good. Sousuke snarled against Makoto’s mouth, making as much use out of his lips as he could.

“Tachibana, what the fuck,” a voice growled from the door, and Makoto and Sousuke jumped about five meters into the air. They both slowly craned their necks back to see Fujioka taking in the scene with vague interest, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you have my roommate pinned down like that? Are you torturing him?” 

Makoto yelped and immediately released Sousuke’s wrists, his face turning bright red. “N-no! We we-were just…” 

Fujioka snorted. Thunder boomed overhead again, and the light at the desk flickered weakly, casting uneven shadows across his blonde curls and hollowed cheeks. He looked at Sousuke and took a sip from the coffee mug in his hands. “Didn’t realize you were into BDSM, Yamazaki.” 

“I’m not,” Sousuke blurted, scowling, with lack of a better reply. (He’d hardly thought about it, if he was honest.)

“Really? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks as if he had your arms pinned down-” 

“It. Isn’t. BDSM,” Sousuke spat, baring his teeth. Makoto flinched and looked at his hands, fidgeting horribly. The poor puppy. The sexual aggression he’d been harboring just moments before had dried up at a surprising speed. 

Fujioka smirked infuriatingly. “Would you guys like me to pick up some rope for you? Maybe get you a collar for your birthday, Yamazaki? I could buy Tachibana a matching leash, too. Maybe blindfolds-” 

“I’m going to murder you,” Sousuke hissed. He pushed Makoto off of him and stood, striding towards Fujioka with full intentions of throttling him, and Fujioka cackled and scrambled away from his reach, back into the safety of the hallway. Sousuke stopped at the threshold and glared at him, folding his arms over his chest. “Continue saying things like that and I’ll kill you in your sleep.” 

Fujioka put his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Okay, okay. Chill, man. I was just joking.” He got on his tip-toes to peer over Sousuke’s shoulder at Makoto. “By the way, your roommate asked me to get you on my way up, Tachibana. Some chick is here to see you.” 

Sousuke cocked an eyebrow. “...Some chick?”

“Oh! That must be Rosi-chan,” Makoto said. Sousuke turned to look at him, his scowl deepening. 

“...Rosi-chan? What kind of name is Rosi-chan?” 

“I don’t know, but she’s super hot,” Fujioka said. 

“She’s also Tanaka-kun’s girlfriend,” Makoto said, his voice a little cold when he addressed Fujioka. He stood up and moved to stand at Sousuke’s side, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. “Rosi-chan is actually from England. Her real name is Rosalind, but I call her Rosi-chan.” He checked his watch and pouted thoughtfully. “I didn’t expect her to come so soon. We’re not supposed to leave for another twenty minutes.” 

“Leave for where?” Sousuke asked, frowning. “I thought we were studying today.” 

Fujioka snorted. “Right. Because you two were totally studying, before.” 

“We’re going to a slam poetry night, actually,” Makoto replied, ignoring Fujioka completely, “We go every month. I… I thought I told you that.” 

Sousuke shrugged. “I mean, I knew you went to poetry stuff, but I didn’t know you went with Tanaka’s girlfriend.” 

“Haru sometimes comes too, if one of my pieces is being performed,” Makoto said. He winced and flushed, looking as if he regretted saying the last half of that sentence. Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. 

“You perform pieces?” 

“No…” 

“But you just said you did.”

“Sousuke, have you met me?” Makoto asked, laughing nervously and scratching his cheek, “I couldn’t perform a poem if my life depended on it. No, no, I just write pieces and Rosi-chan performs them for me.”

Sousuke gave an amused snort. “A chick from England performs Japanese poems.” 

“Well, Rosi-chan’s lived in Japan most of her life, so…” 

“Hm.” Sousuke nodded thoughtfully. “Well, now I have to come with you.” 

“W-what?” Makoto said, blinking in surprise.

“I’m coming with you, then.”

“Sousuke, it’s probably gonna be boring. I don’t think you’d like it. It’s a couple hours long, and everybody there are writers and performers-” 

“If your writing is being performed, than I’m coming,” Sousuke said simply. “I’ve got nothing better to do, so I might as well. Why? Is there some sort of rule for who gets to come?”

“N-no…” Makoto flinched and looked at the ground. “I just… It’s sort of embarrassing.” 

“Why?” 

Makoto let out an anxious burst of laughter. “Do I have to remind you about the last time you read some of my stuff? It was humiliating. I have… a habit of incorporating stuff from my life into my writing, and, I don’t know. It’s just…” 

Sousuke studied him for a moment. “You just don’t want me to come hear it.” 

“N-no, it’s not like that!” Makoto said, flushing pink. He ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Of course I want you to come. I just-” 

“Then I’ll come,” Sousuke retorted. He moved back into the room to get his jacket. “What’s the big deal? Do you write stuff about me?” 

“N-not about you, per se,” Makoto said. He tugged at his shorts and fidgeted from foot to foot. “More like… inspired by you. I don’t know.” 

Sousuke faced him again, slipping on his teal jacket and zipping it. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Makoto, if you really don’t want me to come, then I won’t. But I want to hear your writing. You never let me read any of it.” 

“There’s usually a reason for that…” 

“Like what?” 

“It’s embarrassing!” Makoto burst. He covered his blushing face with his hands. “I keep thinking you’re going to think I’m dramatic, or exaggerating. I get all nervous, and I know you won’t judge me, but I can’t help but feel like you will, and it freaks me out.” 

Sousuke frowned, wounded. “Makoto, when have I ever judged you?” 

“N-never, and I know I’m just being paranoid, but I can’t help it.” Makoto’s shoulders slumped. “It’s a bad habit of mine, okay? I get nervous about everything. The only reason why I let Rosi-chan perform my stuff at all is because she can make even the worst of stuff good and she’d steal my work if I didn’t give it to her. Plus I’m a tiny bit afraid of her, so.” 

Fujioka chuckled. She’s really something.” 

Makoto was not one to often look disgusted, but the look he sent Fujioka radiated distaste. 

“I’m not going to judge you, Makoto,” Sousuke said, in an attempt to remain on topic. He moved forward and cupped Makoto’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet softly. When he spoke, he kept his voice low and soothing, in the way that he knew gave Makoto shivers. “C’mon. I want to hear what’s inside that head of yours.” 

Makoto hesitated. He curled his lips in and looked away, before sighing and giving a tiny nod. “...Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Y-yeah. You’re going to pester me about it, anyways, so might as well give in now,” Makoto said, half teasingly and half truthfully. 

Sousuke laughed. 

\---000---

The slam poetry performance was in the basement of a spacious cafe downtown, and Sousuke couldn’t help a twinge of uneasiness as he followed Makoto down the dark stairs to a room filled with creative-looking people and flickering candles. He resisted the urge to grab Makoto’s hoodie and yank him back, maybe drag them both back up to the safety of the cafe. Or even out onto the street, where the raindrops felt like bullets and the wind was strong enough to stifle a full-grown elephant.

Sousuke had forgotten how much he hated creative people. 

Other than Makoto, of course. 

He didn’t anticipate growing a fondness for them any time soon, either. In the dim lights of the rounded, almost cave-like room, he could make out an assortment of piercings, beanies, intricate tattoos, and intimidatingly thick books resting in laps and on the tiny tables cluttering the place. It was quiet, almost eerily so, the only noise being idle, intelligent chat about things that Sousuke couldn’t make sense of. Like the comparisons between Shakespeare’s “the tempest” and the Marvel movies. Or choice of iambic pentameter in a poem about anal sex. Cups of coffee from the cafe upstairs was sipped delicately, and the air tasted of scones and hot chocolate. At the far end of the room was a small, shallow stage, its only decoration being a microphone stand a couple of lights at its head. There were also a pair of bongos, but they looked discarded, as if they were used very occasionally. A frazzled, middle-aged looking man stood on it, adjusting the microphone and muttering curses that echoed through the speakers and prompted a couple of laughs now and again. A few people were smoking in a closed off corner, their heads turned away so as not to breathe on the others surrounding them. That was considerate enough. But the superior looks being shot Sousuke’s way were hardly appreciated. 

“Watch this last stair, Sousuke-kun,” Tanaka's girlfriend and their guide for the night, Rosi, warned. She flashed Sousuke a warm smile over her shoulder and stepped back to allow Makoto and Sousuke to more or less hop down the last step. Sousuke’s hand instinctively went out to pinch the hem of Makoto’s dripping coat, swallowing as he glanced around the large, crowded room. The action didn’t go unnoticed. Makoto gave him a tiny smile and twined their pinkies, tugging him closer to whisper in his ear. 

“Don’t look so nervous. Everyone’s a lot nicer than they look.”

“I’m not nervous,” Sousuke grunted, tilting his chin up. He glowered a couple who had been staring at him a little too long. “I just feel really out of place.” 

“So does everybody, on their first night,” Rosi said, although Sousuke didn’t recall asking for her opinion. She blew a strand of blonde hair out of her face and gave him a little wink. “We’re a weird bunch, but we’re accepting as hell. By the end of the first performance, you’ll feel right at home.” 

“...Thanks,” Sousuke said, although his tone sounded far from grateful, even to himself.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Rosi. She was obviously foreign, with her pale skin, bleach-blonde curls, and watery, hazel eyes, but she spoke like a true Tokyo native. Sousuke wouldn’t have believed she was Tanaka’s girlfriend if it hadn’t been confirmed earlier, when she and Tanaka had kissed somewhat sloppily before they left. Rosi was dainty and fairy-like, and Tanaka was broad and came off as downright brutish. She blended in well enough with the people around them: wool beanie still carrying water droplets from the storm outside, a black tank top and leggings, and a lip piercing. Her expression seemed naturally soft and dreamy, but her voice was expressive and a little explosive, as if every statement was part of a slam poem. 

“Mako-chan, do you have the poems?” she asked, turning her attention from Sousuke to Makoto. 

“Um, yeah,” Makoto said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a messily binded notebook with papers shoved between the pages. He opened it and began flipping through. “Hm. You did that one last time… You could try this one….?”

Rosi moved closer to peer at the poem he had selected. “I did that a couple weeks ago. You don’t have anything new?” 

“I’ve been… busy,” Makoto offered weakly. His gaze lingered on Sousuke, a small smile on his lips. “You know. Exams, and stuff. Sorry.” 

“No biggie. But you’ve always got this thing around. You don’t have anything?” 

Makoto flushed. “Nothing that I’ve looked back at.” 

“Well, give me a rough one. They’re good no matter what, Mako-chan,” Rosi said affectionately, standing on her tiptoes to ruffle Makoto’s hair. She snatched at one of the loose papers sticking out and held it to her face. “This one looks interesting. I’ll do this.” 

Panic flashed across Makoto’s features. “N-no, no, not that one.” 

“Why? It looks gritty,” Rosi said, her eyes skimming down the lines. They suddenly widened, and she giggled, shooting Sousuke a knowing look. “I’m definitely doing this one.” 

“Rosi-chan, please don’t,” Makoto whined, moving to snatch it back. She ducked out of his reach just in time, tittering and holding the poem to her chest. 

“Too late! You and Sousuke-kun go sit down, I’m going to go request a spot,” she said, before taking off towards the guy on the stage. 

“Rosi-chan…” Makoto whimpered, his shoulders slumping. 

“What’s the big deal?” Sousuke asked. He cocked an eyebrow. “Why not that poem?” 

Makoto face flushed. “I’ve barely looked at it! And it’s…” He fidgeted, watching the ground as if it was incredibly interesting. “It’s kinda about you…? Or inspired by you, at least.” Before Sousuke could say anything else, he shook his head repeatedly, water droplets cascading off of his damp hair. “Look, let’s just sit down. I’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”

He hesitated, before taking Sousuke’s hand and leading him forward, maneuvering through the small tables and chairs. Sousuke stumbled after him, his skin prickling uncomfortably under the curious eyes they were drawing. A few people gave Makoto a short greeting, and Makoto replied to each one cheerily, stopping for a couple moments to swap a ‘how are you’ and a ‘how’s the ----- going?’ Some people didn’t even say anything, but patted Makoto on the arm as he passed or gave him a light shove and a laugh. Makoto’s growing smile was enough to light up the entire room with each new greeting. Sousuke could only follow and glare, accepting his role as Makoto’s glowering shadow. 

“Oi! Tachi-pan-a!” A voice sing-songed, and a girl near the front stood up and wriggled her fingers in their direction. She was tall, with dark, scraggly hair, an eyebrow piercing, and the tattoo of an otter on her neck. (Strange choice of a tattoo, but Sousuke decided not to dwell on it.) 

“Hey, Gen-chan,” Makoto said, lifting one hand and waving. He tugged Sousuke towards the girl’s table, where two other people sat casually, looking up as they approached: a girl with blue hair and a guy with fat glasses. All three of them smiled at Makoto, and Makoto clasped hands with the girl, ‘Gen-chan.’ “I thought we agreed not to call me that in public.” 

“What? Tachi-pan-a?” ‘Gen-chan’ asked, quirked an eyebrow and laughing. She shook her head and clapped Makoto on the shoulder. “No way in hell, babe. You can bet your cute little ass that I’m going to take advantage of my fellow pansexual’s surname.” 

Makoto turned pink. Sousuke wasn’t sure if that was because this chick was speaking very openly about pansexuality, or if she had said he had a ‘cute little ass.’ Most likely a mixture of both. 

“My oh my, you’ve got a new shadow, Mako-chan,” the girl with the blue hair warned, her eyes landing on Sousuke. She smiled a cheshire smile. “What happened to the smaller one?”

“Haru didn’t come with me today,” Makoto said. He sighed and tugged Sousuke closer to him. “This is Yamazaki Sousuke, everyone. He decided to tag along with me tonight.” 

“Well, I’m not complaining. Honestly, Mako-chan, you have an eery tendency to pick up brooding, sexy boys,” the girl with the blue hair said. She got out of her seat and stuck her hand out for Sousuke to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Yamazaki-kun. I’m Yamaba Fuji. But you can skip the formalities and call me Fu.” 

“Um, hi,” Sousuke grunted, taking her hand and shaking. 

“I’m Nakano Au,” the guy with the glasses said, smiling a sleepy smile and taking Sousuke’s hand next. His grip was surprisingly firm, despite his small size. He was almost as shrimpy as Momo. “It’s nice to meet you. We don’t get a lot of new faces around here.” 

“He’s… just here for tonight,” Makoto offered weakly, flushing a deeper pink. 

“Sit down already, you’re blocking everyone's view!” the original girl, ‘Gen-chan,’ said. She practically shoved Sousuke and Makoto into the two open seats at their little table. “I’m Moto Gen, by the way, Yamazaki-kun.” 

“...Just Sousuke is fine.” 

“How about Sou?” Gen asked, sitting back into her own chair. 

Sousuke set his jaw. He decided to ignore the chuckle Makoto was trying to cover. “No. Sousuke.” 

“Fair enough,” Gen said with a shrug. She turned to Makoto, resting her chin in her hand and blinking at him imploringly. “So, Tachi-pan-a. Is Rosi-chan doing you tonight?” 

Sousuke immediately tensed, and Makoto flinched, laughing nervously. Gen burst into giggles and gave Makoto a small shove. “Relax, relax. You know what I mean. Is she reading one of your poems tonight?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Makoto cleared his throat and nodded. 

“Just one, or multiple?”

“...One.” 

“What a shame,” Fu sighed. “It seems like you’ve been supplying less and less for your adoring fans lately, Mako-chan.” 

“I… hardly think I have adoring fans.” 

“Sure, you do. People are still asking about that unfinished prose you wrote a month ago,” Fu chirped, “And about your last free-verse, of course.”

Makoto gave a hopeless shrug. “I’ve had my hands full, lately.” 

Fu smirked. She cast Sousuke a flirtatious look, her finger absently twisting a strand of bright hair. “I would, too, if I had access to as many cuties as you, Mako-chan.” 

“Good lord, Fu,” Nakano sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be no stranger to this sort of behavior. Fu promptly ignored him and leaned closer to Sousuke, her lips pursed and her eyelashes lowered. Sousuke glared down at her, silently demanding for her to get out of his personal bubble, but she remained stubborn. 

“Where are you from, Sousuke-kun?” she asked lightly. 

“Tokyo, actually.” 

“Ooh, a native. This your first time in a place like this?” 

“...Yes,” Sousuke grunted. He could feel Makoto tense up at his side.

“Don’t worry babe, we’ll make you feel right at home,” Fu purred, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. She leaned closer still, her hand touching Sousuke’s leg lightly. Makoto was so tense at Sousuke’s side that it felt as if he had suddenly shapeshifted into stone. 

“Fu, please spare us all the pain of your strenuous realization that Mako-chan is dating Sousuke-kun,” Nakano retorted flatly, taking a sip of his coffee and flashing Sousuke an apologetic look. “I hardly think Mako-chan appreciates you feeling up his boyfriend, you utter dipshit.” 

Fu blinked at him for a couple moments, before slowly retracting her hand and looking between Sousuke and Makoto with wide eyes. “Fuck. Seriously?” 

“Well, if they’re not dating, then Mako-chan is seriously infatuated with the lovely Sousuke-kun,” Nakano drawled before Makoto or Sousuke could reply, his voice dripping with irony. “He looked about ready to bite your head off, Fu. And that is an expression that should never be on Mako-chan’s face.” 

Sousuke glanced at Makoto, but Makoto had already turned away with him, his ears a bright red in the dim light of the room. 

“Mako-chan is jealous,” Gen sing-songed, a small smile on her face.

“Wait, so you are dating?” Fu said, pouting and pointing between the two of them. 

When Makoto didn’t reply, (he seemed to be struggling to regain his usual cheery demeanor,) Sousuke cleared his throat and gave a short nod. “Yeah.” 

“Shit. Sorry, guys.” Fu laughed nervously and put her arms up in surrender. “You should’ve said something sooner.” 

“Well, you act pretty fast,” Sousuke pointed out, causing Nakano to snort into his coffee and Gen to throw back her head and howl. Fu just laughed and gave a little shrug, not bothering to deny it. 

“H-how did you know we were…?” Makoto mumbled, peeking at Nakano. 

“You were holding hands when you came in, dum-dum. And Sousuke-kun’s been leaning on you as if everyone else is about to pull a gun on him.” Nakano adjusted his glasses and pulled a face. “Your friend, Haruka, was also complaining to me last time about your new boyfriend, so I pretty much connected the dots from there.” 

Makoto’s shoulders slumped. “Haru…” 

“You’ve got a boyfriend, now, Tachi-pan-a!” Gen clapped her hands together and gave a happy little squeal. She wriggled happily in her chair, and Makoto flushed, looking down at his lap. Gen suddenly took on a serious expression, her giggles cut short. She leaned forward and held a finger to her lips. “Okay. I have to ask. Was the rugged, handsome Sousuke-kun that is seated before us some sort of sexual awakening? Like, is he the source of your dive into pansexuality?” 

That only made Makoto turn redder. He mumbled something under his breath, blushing down to his hoodie. Sousuke felt color rise to his own face, and he glowered at a fixed spot over Gen’s head as he waited for Makoto to recover enough to reply. Fu and Nakano hell silent, leaning forward a little in anticipation. Their staring only made Makoto wriggle more. He cleared his throat repeatedly, nervously adjusting his glasses. 

“U-um… Yes? I mean, it wasn’t l-like… What I mean is…” Makoto stopped. He cleared his throat and straightened a little, gathering himself. “S-Sousuke did help me realize I’m pansexual, but more as a friend than a boyfriend. It’s… a long story, but basically when we met again after the break and got to know each other better, I really grew to admire how self-aware he is. I guess I wanted to be as aware of who I am as him. So I started doing some… I don’t know, research? And it kinda went from there.” Those green eyes met Sousuke’s, and Makoto gave him a shy smile, his cheeks pink. “We just happen to be going out, now.”

Sousuke’s heart decided that this was the perfect time to start doing an excited irish dance in his chest. A smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it, and the people around them momentarily melted away. It was crucial in that moment to appreciate every little detail of Makoto’s gaze: the way his pupils flared with every slight change of light, the way the green of his irises melted from emerald to olive to pine. They glowed in the darkness like two drops of clear jade, framed by dark, curling eyelashes that made them only look brighter. His full lips looked much too kissable, and gleaming droplets of water still clung to his cinnamon hair, occasionally dripping down his freckled cheeks.   
Fuck, he was beautiful. 

“Holy shit, are you two an old married couple?” Fu snorted, smiling and shaking her head. “I get it, you’re both gorgeous and you’re dating. No need to rub it in by staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. They keep this room dark for a reason.” 

“I think it’s cute.” Gen gave a dreamy sigh and leaned against the table, her chin in her hands. “Besides, it’s not their fault that they’re both gorgeous.” 

“Well, it certainly doesn’t help my self-esteem,” Fu retorted, leaning back in her chair. 

“Oh, hush.” Gen punched her lightly, before turning back to (a blushing) Makoto and bringing her eyebrows together. “But in all seriousness, Tachi-pan-a. Have you told your family, yet? You said you wanted to soon, last time.” 

“...Um, I haven’t really gotten around to it,” Makoto muttered. He winced. “It’s still really early. And it’s not like I’m in that much of a rush, right…?” 

“Maybe, but don’t you want them to meet your boyfriend?”

“Of course, but-” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sousuke interrupted, his stomach immediately writhing in panic. He turned to Makoto and brought his eyebrows together. “Your parents?”

Makoto just blinked at him. “Well, yeah. You’re going to meet them, eventually. And I’m going to meet your parents...Right?” He looked to Gen and Nakano with an anxious expression. “This is normal, right? You meet the parents after, like, a month or two?” 

Nakano snorted. “Usually after a couple weeks, in my experience. But this is a bit of a special case, since your parents are in a different city. Hell, they don’t even know you’re not straight.”

Makoto opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrows drawn together, but was interrupted by a chorus of clapping from the people around them. A guy wearing suspenders and an Adventure Time t-shirt waltzed onto the stage and promptly began reciting a poem, and Sousuke and Makoto had no choice but to fall silent and listen to the next couple of performers. 

Witnessing a slam poem was an odd experience. Sousuke had never been one for poetry, but hearing it read outloud with so much conviction was… different. It was like a play, but the words lurched and fell from the tongues of the performers with such emotion and strength that it was practically forced onto Sousuke’s mind, like how incredibly loud music makes your heart pound along with it. A lot of it didn’t make that much sense, but Sousuke figured he could gather a good understanding of the message just by the tone of voice or the expression of the performer. It was oddly interesting, despite Sousuke’s utter lack of literal comprehension. Performer after performer stepped onto the little stage, introduced themselves and their poem, forced Sousuke onto a rollercoaster of experiences through sound, and then retreated back into the crowd. 

It was kind of exhilarating. As exhilarating as poetry could be, of course. 

Rosi stepped onto the stage after maybe the seventh performance, the applause following the performer before her still ringing through the room. Recognition rippled through the crowd in the form of murmurs, and a couple people shot smiles of encouragement at Makoto. Rosi held the poem out like a prize and grinned, and Makoto sunk a little in his chair, his face pink. 

“Untitled, by the lovely Tachibana Makoto,” Rosi said. Somebody whooped, and another wave of applause pulsed through the room. Sousuke joined in, chuckling to himself as Makoto covered his blushing face. 

Rosi cleared her throat and began to read, her voice immediately resonating with emotion. 

“This tender quiet,  
This brutish chaos.  
This splendid mess of splintering laughter and honeyed touches.  
Caribbean eyes and soft lips,  
an aftertaste of moonlight and metal.  
the tug of dark waves, the fall of rain,   
and a flurry  
of tiny pink petals.   
Kiss me breathless, hold me close.   
please don’t remind me  
of those fearful nights,  
of thunderstorms and little white pills,  
and the sickening sensation that always follows  
Distract me from the stories in my head,   
of shadows and half-finished lullabies.  
Replace them with daydreams of mornings,  
with rosy diamonds of light   
cast over your skin  
and fluttering eyelashes,  
turning you to gold,  
as if God decided to paint you with the color of royalty  
and leave you with me as some sort of beautiful curse  
that plagues my body with nervous butterflies  
and a heart that yearns to slice its way out of the confines of my pounding chest  
and embrace you  
in a splattering of messy adoration and bad poetry.”

She paused, and her hazel eyes swept through the room, her lips slightly parted to utter the last few lines. Sousuke felt his breath catch in anticipation, his heart beating a little faster. He could feel people looking at the back of his head, but he didn’t have the energy to turn around and glare at them until they looked away. Rosi, and the feeling of Makoto’s fingers brushing his, were the only things that mattered. 

“Darling Caribbean eyes,  
You claim you are not poetic,  
but why would you be?  
It would hardly be fair  
since you are already a form of art.  
why would you desire your lungs to sing beauty  
when every word from your lips  
is already a love song?”

She gave a soft smile and a little bow, muttered a ‘thank you’ into the microphone, and stepped off the stage. Immediate applause erupted through the room, and a couple people whooped in the back. People leaned forward to nudge Makoto and ruffle his hair, as if he was their little brother, and Makoto laughed nervously, his face pink. He mumbled words of gratitude, his green eyes glowing with both embarrassment and happiness. Gen pulled him for a noogie and tousled his hair to the point that it was a ball of fluff, and Fu and Nakano laughed. 

The room settled, and the next performer stepped into the light of the stage. 

Makoto’s hand found Sousuke’s between their legs, and their gazes clashed. Sousuke released a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. Makoto studied him anxiously, biting his lip, his hair sticking up in all directions from all the nuzzling. 

“Um, what did you think?” he whispered. 

Sousuke replied by pinching his chin and forcing their mouths together hurriedly, a weight being lifted off his shoulders at the blissful contact of their lips. Makoto yelped and pulled away, his entire face turning rosy. 

“S-Sousuke! N-not here! There are people-” 

“I don’t give a fuck, Makoto,” Sousuke said. He grabbed the collar of Makoto’s hoodie and yanked him back for another kiss, their mouths colliding softly. A couple people around them chuckled and gave little whistles, but Sousuke couldn’t care less. His entire body shook with happiness as Makoto kissed him back, his hand coming up to tangle in Sousuke’s damp hair. 

When they pulled apart, Sousuke rested their foreheads together, lips parted. The words that Rosi had practically sang swam in his head. He could taste them on Makoto’s breath, could feel them in every beat of his heart. 

He was vaguely aware of Gen chuckling and nudging Nakano. 

“Tachi-pan-a and Mr. Caribbean Eyes.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look. A Rei. And implied Reigisa. Huh.  
> P.S. This just in I am awful :')

“Cute butt. Cute, cute, cute. Cutie, cutie, butt-butt.”

“You really are an ass-man, aren’t you?” Sousuke said around his toothbrush, faking an annoyed sigh as Makoto continued gently patting his ass through his shorts and giggling to himself. He spat into the sink and slipped his toothbrush and toothpaste back into his “certified” drawer, so as not to get it mixed up with the other couple of guys he shared a bathroom with. He looked back up at his reflection and ran a hand through his hair. He’d have to get a trim, soon. The dark strands were still short and spiky, but it’d been awhile since it had been long enough to brush his thick eyebrows. He’d have to put some money aside to get it cut back to its comfortably short length. 

“Maybe I am,” Makoto mused, and Sousuke caught the fond little smile in the reflection of the mirror. Luckily they were alone, (Sousuke’s bathroom-buddies woke up and prepared earlier than he did,) which gave Makoto the opportunity to feel him up as much as he pleased.  
“I don’t know why you like it so much,” Sousuke commented, leaning over the sink to splash his face with water. “It’s not like I have much ass to begin with.” 

“Yeah, but it’s cute. And I’ve never grabbed somebody’s butt before, so I have nothing to compare it to.” As if to emphasize, Makoto squeezed, laughing lightly to himself. Sousuke resisted the urge to stick his butt out further and brush it against Makoto’s crotch. It was probably too early for Makoto’s excessive blushing.

He straightened and wiped his face with the discarded hand towel by the sink. “You’re too optimistic for your own good, Tachibana.” 

“And you’re hardly appreciative,” Makoto replied breezily. He released Sousuke’s ass and looped his arms around Sousuke’s middle, patting his stomach through his tank-top. He rested his nose on Sousuke’s shoulder and smiled, using a sing-song voice. “Tummy, tummy, tum-tum. Sousuke’s tummy is a drum-drum.” 

He brought his hands up to rest against Sousuke’s pectorals and squeezed, deepening Sousuke’s ‘cleavage.’ He laughed. “Boobs. Booby, booby, boob-boobs.”

Sousuke snorted. “Are you high?” 

“No. Just in a good mood,” Makoto said, smiling at him through the reflection. He kept their gazes locked as he placed a soft kiss on Sousuke’s cheek, the touch of his lips making Sousuke’s skin tingle. “Aren’t you in a good mood?” 

“I’m never in a good mood.”

“That’s not true. You seem to be in a very good mood every time I let you pick the movie we watch.” Makoto let out a dramatic sigh. “And you always pick Jurassic Park.” 

“It’s cinematic genius.” 

“It’s scary! And I can’t read subtitles as fast as you.” Makoto said. He buried his face in Sousuke’s shoulder and pouted. “You always talk through it, anyway.” 

“If I don’t talk, then you freak out. You’re calmer when I talk.” 

“Because your endless commentary takes away the experience.” 

“What experience? You hide behind me the whole time, anyway.” 

“J-just at the parts with blood!” Makoto protested. He shuddered at the thought. “Stupid dinosaurs… getting out of their cages and terrorizing innocent people…” 

“You’re insufferable,” Sousuke said, touching his fingers under the running tap and flicking water into Makoto’s face. Makoto scrunched his nose up and whined. Encouraged, Sousuke did it again, and Makoto jerked his face back, shaking his head and puffing his cheeks out. 

“You’re so mean to me, Sousuke,” he said, pouting. He rested his chin on Sousuke’s shoulder again and sighed, holding him tighter around the middle. “You’re a bully.”

“Yup. I’m a big, bad bully.” 

“Mm-hm.”

“A big, bad bully with a cute little nerd for a boyfriend.” 

“I’m not a nerd!” Makoto protested. He smacked Sousuke lightly in the pectoral. “See, this is why you’re a bully, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke pulled a face. “Don’t hit my boob.” 

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll hit you in the boob.” 

Makoto released Sousuke and stumbled back, crossing his arms protectively over his chest and faking horror. “Don’t!” 

Sousuke laughed and turned to face him. He wriggled his fingers and lunged for him, catching him by the wrists. “Give me the boob, Makoto.” 

“Never! These boobs are not for Sousuke’s bully hands!” Makoto cried dramatically, his light laugh bouncing off the bathroom tiles. They wrestled, stumbling around the bathroom with Makoto’s wrists in Sousuke’s grip, Makoto desperately trying to misdirect his arms away from his chest. Their laughter turned near hysterical as they both barely saved themselves from toppling over when they crossed a wet spot. Somehow they ended up in one of the shower stalls, wheezing and struggling weakly, with Makoto cornered and his arms pinned over his head. He laughed, his eyes watering, as Sousuke used his free hand to pat his pectorals through his shirt, delighting at the firm yet slightly plush feeling.

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford, Yamazaki Sousuke,” Makoto said, grinning wide. He went limp, letting Sousuke hold his arms up and catching his breath. 

“Oh, so you can afford my boobs, but I can’t afford yours?” 

“Yes,” Makoto chirped, before bursting into giggles all over again. The sound made Sousuke’s chest swell with happiness, and he couldn’t help the contagious smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He let Makoto’s hands drop and tugged him close by the waist. Makoto slumped against his chest, still laughing a little under his breath. 

“What’s gotten into you?” 

“I don’t know! I’m just in a really, really good mood,” Makoto said. He grinned wide. “Do you ever have those days where you just… you just feel like you can do anything? Like, you just get the feeling that it’s going to be a good day?” 

Sousuke frowned. “...I guess.” 

“I don’t feel like that, usually. But today I do. And it’s got me all hyper.” Makoto shivered, his smile bright enough to light up the stormy day outside. “This is going to be a good day. I know it. I can practically feel it in the air. It’s all rainy out, just the way I like it, and I actually got a decent sleep last night, and I have a presentation today that I feel really confident about, and I’ve got swimming today, too…” 

Sousuke pulled a face. “I’m disturbed by your lack of appreciation for me, so far.” 

“Oh, shush, you conceited baby,” Makoto said, rolling his eyes. He punched Sousuke’s shoulder lightly, and Sousuke laughed, pulling him closer. Makoto’s smile widened, if that was possible. He cupped Sousuke’s face and kissed him softly, directing their mouths into a slow, blissful dance of grazing teeth and gliding, tender skin. Makoto captured his tongue between his soft lips and tilted his head, and Sousuke moaned against his mouth, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. His lips instinctively drifted wider to give Makoto free range, and Makoto took advantage of it, his tongue grazing every sensitive spot possible and making Sousuke shiver. A warmth like sunlight filled his chest. Every time Makoto pulled away in the slightest, his lips twitched with desire, only satisfied when Makoto touched him again. They met all at once, and then there was nothing at all.  
Sousuke wanted Makoto’s warmth to seep into his body and remain preserved there, like the light of fireflies in a jar, so this feeling would never fade. He wanted to hold Makoto like this until they melted into each other, Makoto’s fingers constantly tugging at his hair and his own hands exploring the rising, tan dunes of Makoto’s body. Everything about their kisses rose and fell like the swell of waves, like the clash of wind and stone. Their heartbeats against each other seemed to shake the ground, and Sousuke felt suspended, absently floating through space, his limbs and lips tangled with Makoto in every sense of the word. The grimy bathroom throbbed with the presence of Makoto, every twitch of his fingers and rise of his lips another burst of green and copper in Sousuke’s vision. 

Fuck. Sousuke was so deep in this blissful, wonderful mess that he didn’t have room to kick himself for being sappy.

When they pulled away from each other, they were so breathless that they were practically wheezing. Their mouths dwindled together as they fought for air, heartbeats being exchanged through the fevered brushing of their skin. Sousuke left his lips parted to catch the remains Makoto’s taste. He kept his eyes shut tight, color still dancing in his mind, as Makoto massaged his cheekbones with his thumbs, their noses bumping. 

“Please tell me you felt that,” he whispered gruffly, leaning forward a sliver to nip at Makoto’s lip. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I felt that,” Makoto mumbled. He laughed, his voice almost loopy. “Like kissing moonlight.” 

“Fuck, Makoto,” Sousuke growled, and they were kissing all over again, pressed against the wall and grabbing at each other as if they’d float away if they didn’t touch. Sousuke’s fingers clung to Makoto’s narrow hips, to the elegant cut of his waist, to the strong angles of his ribs. His thumbs brushed over Makoto’s nipples, and Makoto gasped against his mouth, his hold on Sousuke’s hair tightening. They rocked and swayed with the movement of their mouths, blindly grasping at any inch of each other they could get at.  
The world tipped, and suddenly Makoto had switched the positions, pushing Sousuke backward by one shoulder and pinning him against the wall. He dove for Sousuke’s neck, sucking at his pulse with hot lips and a boiling tongue. Sousuke moaned. He arched his back and pressed their stomachs together, one leg looping around Makoto’s and effectively holding him into place. He snarled as Makoto nipped at his skin, and made work on grasping at Makoto’s soft hair with one hand, the other groping for Makoto’s ass.

“What… are… you doing to me?” Makoto hissed against his throat. His soft hand held Sousuke’s face as he sucked, and Sousuke felt a wonderfully pleasant sting under the pressure of Makoto’s mouth. He’d definitely be sporting a hickey, later. 

“You’re seriously asking me that?” Sousuke said, chuckling a little through his breathlessness. He was going a little weak in the knees under Makoto’s ruthless touch. Desperate for some sort of control over the situation, he switched their positions again, pinning Makoto back to the wall. Makoto’s face snapped up from Sousuke’s throat at the sudden action, his green eyes blinking in surprise. He didn’t have much time to recover before Sousuke was jumping him again, parting their lips and kissing him hard. Makoto regained himself a little hurriedly, kissing Sousuke with sloppy disregard for control and sweetness. They got swept up in each other’s movements so easily that it was almost sad. Sousuke practically shivered with ragged desperation as they clawed at each other, saliva catching between their lips whenever they moved apart in the slightest. 

A need to catch their breath won out after a while longer of grabbing blindly at each other, and Sousuke and Makoto slumped to the tile floor, still heavily entangled. The fevered heat of their kiss cooled to a sunny warmth, that throbbed through their bodies with the slightest of touches. Sousuke settled against the shower stall wall and directed Makoto onto his lap, back to chest, and kissed his neck softly, his fingers rubbing underneath Makoto’s shirt and along the planes of his stomach. Makoto sighed through his nose and rested his head against the wall, falling limp to Sousuke’s embrace.

Sousuke felt him smile. 

“This is going to be a good day.” 

\---000---

After class, Sousuke promptly fell back onto his bed and groaned. 

His feet ached from walking all over the fucking campus, and he was positively drenched from the rain. Screw Makoto’s cheery outlook on the weather. It was fucking water constantly falling from the sky and leaking through the protection of his bag to ruin his materials. It had been a good excuse to avoid jogging before, but this was getting ridiculous. Sousuke couldn’t even step out to throw out the garbage without being soaked to the bone. 

He’d gone through the day blindly, Makoto’s warmth still on his lips. When he hadn’t been distracted by his inward rain-rant, his mind drifted to their kiss earlier that day. Every kiss of theirs was enough to inspire the next movie adaption of ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ but this one… This one remained fresh in Sousuke’s mind long after Makoto’s touch on his skin had disappeared. The moment he gave himself room to unfocus, he immediately returned to just a little earlier that day, to the feeling of being so hopelessly entangled with Makoto that it ached. 

He had closed his eyes on multiple occasions in class and sighed, letting the memory of Makoto’s burning, passionate mouth take him far away from applied mathematics and scientific computation. He fantasized about returning back to the dorms and waiting for Makoto to finish swim practice, so they could interlock and get lost in each other all over again. He needed Makoto to touch him, to lift his shirt up and whisper sweet nothings to him as he ran those gentle hands over his chest. He needed Makoto’s fingers to curl desperately into his hair, tugging and pulling, his voice breathy and soft and inviting as Sousuke kissed his stomach and back, tongue darting out to catch those milk-chocolate nipples…

Sousuke started and glared at his ceiling, feeling a blush come to his face. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, incredibly annoyed with the discovery that Makoto wouldn’t be back from swim practice for another hour or two. Fuck, he wanted him. 

This was honestly getting ridiculous. Sousuke was beginning to wonder if he was losing the ability to make it through an average day without thinking about Makoto in some sort of pervy or hopelessly sappy way. (Sometimes it was a mixture of both.) The amount of times he’d gone to sleep with Makoto’s body on his mind was uncountable. Every time he closed his eyes, Makoto was there, with swollen, kiss-ready lips, summer-green eyes, and lean muscle that rippled with the slightest of movements. That sultry, raspy voice haunted him, the warm touch of those fingers like ghosts on Sousuke’s skin at night. If he was honest with himself, Sousuke couldn’t remember the last time his hands hadn’t dipped past the elastic of his briefs before bed with Makoto on his mind.

He was starting to think that he was obsessed. Or addicted, or something. Was it possible to be addicted to a person? If it was, then Makoto was like a vicious, wonderfully beautiful drug, that Sousuke was in constant need of tasting. He was so caught up in this mess of lust and adoration that he was beginning to wonder. If Makoto were to ever leave him, or break up with him, would he seriously be able to get over it? Makoto had become such a momentous part of Sousuke’s life. If he could barely make it through a day without having some contact with him, could he really let Makoto go entirely? Just the thought made him shudder. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, like a silent plea for him to think of something else. Anything else. 

It was too early to be in love with Makoto. Much too early. It had barely been a month and a half. That was way, way too soon to start thinking about love. Sousuke just… really, really, really liked Makoto. So much that it bordered on unhealthy. Yeah. That sounded about right.

A cheery chiming cut off Sousuke’s inner turmoil. He frowned and sat up, looking around the room for the source. His eyes landed on Makoto’s laptop, beside the clutter of things that he often left in Sousuke’s room after they studied, together. 

The screen was alight with blue, a skype call chiming and begging to be answered. Sousuke blinked at it, curiosity as to who would be calling Makoto in the middle of the day making him consider answering it himself. He shifted on his bed and studied the icon for the caller, but all it was was a picture of some sort of purple butterfly. The username read ‘Pengobutter.’ That really didn’t help clarify things. 

He scowled at the call. That chiming was beginning to get annoying. There was no harm in answering it and telling the caller that Makoto wasn’t around, right? Sousuke couldn’t be accused of snooping, then. 

Sighing, Sousuke sat up, pulled the laptop onto the bed, and answering the skype call. The chiming stilled, and the live picture of a very, very neat room appeared on the screen. Sousuke scowled, perplexed. There was no sign of a caller on the other end. Just a very tidy collection of knick knacks on a shelf and a ridiculously clean desk. What the fuck…?

“Makoto-senpai! You answered! Thank God, I was beginning to get worried!” a frazzled, panicked voice said off camera. Sousuke heard shuffling, and something crashed to the ground out of his line of sight, followed by a very unmanly yelp. “Hold on one second, I’ll be right with you!” 

“Wh-” 

“Ugh, you have no idea how much I am in need of your assistance. Nagisa-kun has invited himself over tonight, and I’m panicking a little, because he’s been hinting towards this for a while now, and we’ve talked briefly about it, and I thought that this would be as good a time as ever to take our relationship to the next level, but now I’m starting to-”  
Something else crashed, and Sousuke winced at the pained cry that followed. 

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t worry, Makoto-senpai, I’m fine! Just dropped a binder on my foot is all. Anyways, what was I saying? Oh, right. I need your advice. I was going to ask Haruka-senpai, but he hardly seemed like the person to ask about something like this, and if I recall, you’re the only member of our friend circle who isn’t a virgin. I’m sorry for knowing something as personal as that, but I heard Nagisa-kun mention something about a girl, or something of the like… And you told us a little while ago that you’re dating somebody, so surely you’re more knowledgeable about a topic as delicate as this, right?”

Blinking in utter confusion, Sousuke started a little when the speaker finally sat down in front of the camera, giving Sousuke his first good look at the mystery caller. 

Red glasses, indigo hair, a slightly superior look to him…

Sousuke blinked again. “Ryuugazaki?” 

Rei studied him in shock for a moment, before starting, a look of panic on his face. “Y-Yamazaki-san?”

“Um, yeah.” Sousuke winced and held up a stiff hand in greeting. “Hey.” 

“W-what are you doing here?” Rei spluttered. “I mean, not ‘here,’ but, um, what are you doing answering Makoto-senpai skype calls? Did I get the wrong call, somehow? I could’ve sworn-” 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Sousuke interrupted, before Rei could go into another wave of bumbling. “You got the right call. Makoto’s just not around, right now, so I answered for him.”

“...Oh. I see.” Rei relaxed a little, his violet eyes still wary behind his red frames. He cleared his throat. “Makoto-senpai mentioned something about you living nearby… Although, I’m a little curious as to why you’re answering his calls to begin with. Or why you have access to his laptop at all, to be honest.” 

“Ah. Well, we study a lot together, and he sometimes leaves his stuff at my place. I figured I’d answer and tell you he isn’t around, so you wouldn’t try and call again.” Sousuke shrugged. “You know, trying to be considerate, and all that shit.” 

“O-oh.” Rei paused. He choked out a laugh that sounded very, very forced. “Well, thank you, I suppose. Do you know when Makoto-senpai will be back? I really need his advice, at the moment.” 

“He should be back in an hour, or two,” Sousuke said. Rei’s shoulders slumped. 

“...That’ll be too late. Are you sure there’s no way to get in touch with him before hand?” 

“No. He’s at swim practice, so it’s not like he has much access to a phone, or anything,” Sousuke said, trying for an apologetic look. “Do you want me to give him a message?” 

Rei shook his head, his cheeks flushing a little. “No, no. My concerns aren’t really something that can be explained in a message.” 

“Hm.” 

An awkward silence fell between them, and Sousuke shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Rei seemed to be busying himself with a mess of papers, his face pink with embarrassment.  
“Well, I don’t know if I’d be much help, but I could offer my opinion,” Sousuke said, surprising himself a little. He flinched. Fuck, Makoto really was a bad influence. “Since you’re in such dire need of Makoto’s advice.” 

Rei turned a deep scarlet. “W-well, it’s somewhat of a delicate matter.”

“Hm. Alright. Well, I’ll tell him that you called,” Sousuke said, a little relieved. He moved to end the call, but Rei interrupted him just before his finger hit the close button. 

“W-wait!”

Sousuke froze. He looked up at the camera and cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Erm, well… Maybe I could use your advice…” Rei shifted, nervously adjusting his glasses. He paused, looking down at his hands, before hurrying on, his voice cracking a little. “Do you happen to know anything about homosexual intercourse?” 

Sousuke started, his entire body tensing up. “Huh?” 

“H-homosexual intercourse. You know, the sexual relationships between two men or two women, or any two of the same gender, taking into account the other subsets of-” 

“I know what it means, Ryuugazaki,” Sousuke interrupted, scowling in embarrassment and feeling a touch of color come to his own face. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a huff. “Why are you asking Makoto something like that?” 

“Well, I’m currently involved in a h-homosexual relationship with one of the other swimmers on my swim team,” Rei offered weakly. 

“Hm. Hazuki, right? The blonde one?” 

“Yes. And, y-you see, we’ve been considering taking our relationship to the next level of intimacy, and he’s coming over tonight, and I’m horribly unprepared…” Rei’s shoulders slumped, his face as red as his glasses. “I suppose I called to ask Makoto-senpai about his opinion on the matter. He’s the only person I know who might have any experience with something like this, since he’s hinted that he’s dating a man…” 

“Um, yeah,” Sousuke grunted, before he could stop himself. He winced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell one of Makoto’s friends about their relationship, since he didn’t seem to know already. 

Rei looked up. “You know he’s dating a man?” 

Too late. Sousuke inwardly kicked himself. “Yeah. He’s dating me, actually.” 

The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, at first. Rei blinked at him, his features falling slack. A heavy silence fell between them, before Rei threw back his head and cackled with that artificial laugh of his. Sousuke watched him in annoyed confusion. He had the sneaking urge to throttle this kid, but the situation sort of prevented him from doing so, so he settled with glaring at him through the camera until he fell silent. 

“That’s a good one, Yamazaki-san,” Rei said, wiping his eyes. His shoulders still shook with chuckles. “But in all seriousness, you know the man that Makoto-senpai is seeing?” 

Sousuke scowled. “Yeah. Me.” 

Rei’s expression froze on his face, as something between a smile and a grimace. “You’re not joking?” 

Sousuke snorted. “Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“W-well, no…” Rei mumbled, his amused look immediately gave way to horrified embarrassment. “So, you’re dating Makoto-senpai…? Really?” 

“Yeah. For a about a month and a half.” 

“But… You and Makoto-senpai. You don’t seem very, well, c-compatible,” Rei managed, his face turning a deeper shade of pink. “No offense, of course. I just didn’t expect-” 

“Me neither,” Sousuke said honestly. He wasn’t going to bother pretending like he was usually attracted to people with Makoto’s cheeriness. But Makoto was Makoto, and that was an entirely new meaning in and of itself. He shrugged. “But I like him. And he likes me, as far as I can tell. So we’re dating.” 

“I see.” Rei studied him, swallowing. “I wonder why he didn’t tell us. He’s mentioned you on numerous occasions, and he admitted he was seeing someone after he came out to us as pansexual, but I suppose I never… made the connection, I guess.” He winced. “Well, in that case, I’m very sorry for laughing. That was rude of me.” 

“Whatever. We’ve had worse reactions,” Sousuke lied dismissively. This was by far the most dramatic reaction he’d received. Apart from Rin’s, maybe. “I’m sure Makoto meant to tell you guys, but didn’t know how. He doesn’t like confrontation, and he probably expected a similar response to the one you just gave me, so avoided it.” 

Rei let out a nervous burst of what seemed to be genuine laughter. “That does sound like our beloved Makoto-senpai. Although I can’t help but feel guilty, now.” 

“Don’t. He’ll probably be relieved to have the ‘big reveal’ over and done with,” Sousuke said, smirking and using his fingers for air quotes. “This saves him the embarrassment.” 

“The embarrassment of my reaction, yes,” Rei said, smiling shyly himself. “But he is hardly safe from Nagisa-kun’s reaction. Poor Makoto-senpai has a storm coming, with a secret like this.” 

Sousuke laughed. “I wouldn’t call it a secret, but yeah, I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that blonde menace.” 

“Unfortunately, I find myself there, often,” Rei said with a sigh. “On the receiving end of Nagisa-kun’s energy, I mean.” 

“It must be worth it, if you’re planning on doing something tonight with him,” Sousuke said, exploring how much he could tease the kid. (Although, he could hardly call him a kid. Ryuugazaki was decently shredded, after all.)

Rei flushed and looked away. “I s-suppose you’re right, Yamazaki-san.” 

“Just Sousuke is fine. No need for honorifics when I’m giving you advice on ‘homosexual intercourse,’ or whatever you called it,” Sousuke said. He shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed. “What do you want to know?” 

“Um, I don’t know. Anything you might have to offer, I suppose? I’ve been doing some research on it through the internet and through online explanations, but I’d feel much better if I had the words of someone who's experienced it on my side.” Rei flushed. “You… have experienced it, yes?”

“Mm.” Sousuke grunted in confirmation. 

Rei adjusted his glasses shakily. “W-with Makoto-senpai…?” 

“No, not yet,” Sousuke replied. He smirked. “But we have done things.” 

Rei gave him such a horrified look that Sousuke resisted the urge to throw back his head and laugh. This guy was just as easily flustered as Makoto. He was possibly even worse. No wonder Hazuki seemed to like teasing him so much. 

“Well, the first thing you need to do is get lube and condoms,” Sousuke said, forcing his smile away and trying to remain serious. “I trust you know how to use a condom. Make sure you get the right size, because if you don’t, it’s going to be hell. If it’s too small, then it’s going to feel like your dick is going to fall off, and if it’s too big, you’re in danger of having it slip off inside of him. And that is not a great feeling, believe me. Don’t be afraid to go heavy on the lube, either. The more there is up his ass and on your dick, the less it’s going to hurt for him. Or vice versa. Reapply if you have to.” 

“I see,” Rei said, gaining a very serious expression. He brought a pen and a notepad out from somewhere and began furiously scribbling. Sousuke wasn’t sure if he was amused by this or a little disgusted. 

“Start off small. Don’t jam into him like you’re at a rodeo, or anything. Take it bit by bit. He’s going to have to loosen up beforehand, probably by using his fingers. and he’s going to have to clean up, too. Trust me, you don’t want to have sex with somebody who hasn’t washed down there. Porn is a lie. There is no such thing as unplanned anal sex, or there should be no such thing.” 

Rei flushed pink as he scribbled, muttering something along the lines of ‘this is not beautiful.’ That made Sousuke snort. 

“Ryuugazaki, this isn’t going to be pretty, you know,” he said. “The first time rarely is. It’s going to be awkward and painful, and you’re going to see each other from very unflattering angles. You need to come to terms with that now, so you aren’t disappointed, later.” 

Rei looked up at him and blinked, his eyebrows lifted. He hesitated, but gave a tiny nod, adjusting his glasses shakily. 

“I understand, Yamazaki-san.” 

“Good. It gets better, though. The more times you do it, the better it’ll be,” Sousuke said, in an attempt for reassurance. Rei gave another nod, this one surer. He looked back down at the pad and nodded for Sousuke to continue. Sousuke complied with a flat voice. “You should probably try the missionary position first. Don’t try and get fancy, it’s just going to end in tears. The missionary position is great for starting off because you can see each other’s reactions to certain stuff. It’s also hotter. Trust me, he’s going to be making some really hot faces. You’re going to want to see that.” 

“O-okay.” 

“Be gentle. He’s going to ask you to be rougher, but don’t listen to him. If you get rougher, it’s going to feel as if his ass is being torn open. He’s probably going to start bleeding, and then he’s going to be crying, and then you’ll be crying, and it’ll all be a mess. So be careful.” 

Rei didn’t answer. He blanched, the color draining out of his face, and his fingers stumbled a little over the paper. Sousuke studied him with narrowed eyes, pressing his lips to his clasped hands. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

“Y-yeah… This just seems like a lot of responsibility, Yamazaki-san.” Those violet eyes met his through the camera. “What if I can’t handle it? What if I ruin it?” 

A fond smile tugged at Sousuke’s lips, surprising him. Something about this guy… He reminded Sousuke of both Makoto and Rin. A little spastic, easily flustered, proud, but with good intentions and clear motives. He seemed like somebody Sousuke could get along well with, and that didn’t happen very often. 

“You’re not going to ruin it. It’s a lot of responsibility, yeah, but it’s not like you’ll be alone. Hazuki’s gonna be there, too. Sex is about teamwork, as stupid as that sounds.” He sat back and shrugged. “Just pay attention to each other’s reactions and desires, and it’ll be smooth sailing. The better the first time is, the sooner you can move on to hotter stuff.” He hesitated. “It won’t be beautiful now, Ryuugazaki, but it will be later.”

Rei relaxed a little. He offered a tentative smile. “Thank you, Yamazaki-san.” 

“It’s Sousuke.” 

“... I’d prefer to call you Yamazaki-san.”

Sousuke scowled. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

They glared at each other through the camera for a moment, before Rei sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. How about Sousuke-san?” 

Sousuke lifted the corner of his lips up in a crooked smile. “Deal.”

“Alright, then. Thank you, Sousuke-san.” 

“No problem. Good luck,” Sousuke said, giving him a little nod. They said their good-byes, and Rei disconnected, looking monumentally more confident than he had when he’d first called. 

\---000---

11:37 pm. 

11:37 pm, and Makoto still wasn’t home. 

Sousuke was starting to get worried. Makoto never came home late. Ever. He’d always practically scrambled home to start on his homework after swim practice, like the responsible person he was. It was Sousuke who usually wandered off in the middle of the day with the desperate hope of distracting himself from work, which often led to getting horribly lost and calling Makoto so he could be directed back to the dorms. He’d never known Makoto to stray from his usual schedule. 

He must’ve called a dozen times with no answer, wracking his mind for anything Makoto might’ve said earlier about mysteriously disappearing for the night. Had he said anything about going out with friends? Maybe he was over at Nanase’s. Or back at the cafe. Or maybe he was at the slam poetry place, even though it was nowhere near the time he usually went. 

He tried Nanase’s phone, but that damn bastard wouldn’t answer, either. Honestly, what was the point of having each other’s numbers if Nanase barely touched his phone to begin with? Fucking dumbass. His lack of reply confirmed that Makoto wasn’t with him, though, because when Makoto and Nanase were together, Makoto would always answer either of their phones if they rang. So he couldn’t be over at Nanase’s. 

He told himself he was worrying too much. It wasn’t as if Makoto couldn’t take care of himself, or anything. He was probably more capable of taking care of himself than Sousuke was. (They both knew it, too.) Sousuke wasn’t necessarily worried about Makoto drinking, or hanging out with the wrong people, or anything like that. Makoto was smart about those things, and frankly a little paranoid. Sousuke wasn’t even that bothered by the thought of Makoto getting lost at night, because he was perfectly capable of finding his way back by asking for directions or grabbing a taxi. And if that didn’t work, Makoto could probably navigate the streets to the apartment of one of his friends, or something. Sure, he was from a small town, but Makoto was street-smart. More street-smart than Sousuke, at least. 

No, Sousuke wasn’t concerned about any of that. He was concerned by the fact that none of his calls had been answered. Makoto always charged his phone before leaving the house, and always carried a charger around with him. Which meant his phone hadn’t died. Which meant Makoto had either lost his phone in some sort of vicious struggle, or he was purposefully dodging Sousuke’s calls. 

And that was concerning, to say the least. 

It wasn’t until midnight that Sousuke finally got a text from an unknown number. 

 

'Unknown: come outside. I’ve got tachibana'

 

Thoroughly perplexed and more than a little anxious, Sousuke wrenched the door of his dorm open and jogged to the stairs in his sweats, a stained t-shirt, and one sock. He quickly made his way down to the dorm building’s front room, and pushed the stairway door open a little forcefully, letting it swing and crash into the wall on the other side. he stalked to the front door and pulled it open, the sound and smell of rain hitting him hard. 

Two hunched figures stumbled towards him, their heads bent away from the rain. Sousuke swallowed, his heart in his throat, as they shuffled closer. The tallest of them was slumped against the other, barely managing to put one foot in front of the other. A hoodie was thrown over his mess of dark, damp hair, but Sousuke knew immediately that it was Makoto. One, because that hoodie was his teal hoodies that Makoto was very fond of. And two, because very rarely did Sousuke encounter a person of that height who still managed to pass as unthreatening.

“Makoto,” he managed, as the figures drew closer. With utter disregard for the rain, he hurried forward to greet them, the cuffs of his sweats immediately growing heavy with puddle water. 

“Sou-suke,” a familiar voice slurred through the mess of wind, and a pair of sleepy green eyes met his, unnaturally dull and devoid of consideration. Makoto giggled, his voice almost swallowed by the pounding of the storm. “Sousuke, hi. It’s raining, you know.” 

Sousuke snorted incredulously. “Makoto, are you drunk?”

Makoto just giggled. 

“C’mon, help me get him inside,” the person supporting Makoto said, and Sousuke recognized the sharp eyes and brutish tone of Tanaka. Nodding hurriedly, he moved to support Makoto’s other arm, and they more or less dragged him into the shelter of the dorm building.

“What happened?” Sousuke demanded. He held Makoto up as Tanaka moved to close the door behind him. “Why is he drunk? Where has he been?” 

“I went drinking, Sousuke. I had lots of beer and stuff,” Makoto said, smiling lazily. He leaned his weight against Sousuke’s chest, laughing. “It was really fun. It’s still really fun. This is so much fun, you know? Look at me, Sousuke. I’m all wet. Isn’t that funny?” He laughed again, his voice unnaturally high. 

“C’mon, let’s get him upstairs. He’s going to puke if we’re not careful,” Tanaka said with a huff, coming to take Makoto’s other arm again. 

“What happened?” Sousuke snapped. He pulled Makoto up, and he and Tanaka steadily made their way toward the stairs, practically yanking Makoto forward with them. 

“I don’t know, man,” Tanaka muttered, shaking his head. “He came home and asked if I’d go drinking with him. Something was definitely up with him, and I’m never one to turn down a drinking buddy, so I went with him to this really nice bar I know. Figured I could cheer him up, a little. He didn’t talk, or anything, just ordered drink after drink and pretty much collapsed. The bar kicked us out, and I ended up dragging his sorry ass home in a cab. He nearly threw up on, like, four different occasions.” 

“I did not!” Makoto whined, pouting. He stared at his feet, as if focusing deeply on taking one stair at a time. 

“Makoto never gets drunk,” Sousuke insisted. 

Tanaka let out a burst of bitter laughter. “Do you see him, right now? He has more alcohol in his body than I have porn in my room.” 

“I drank a lot,” Makoto agreed, giggling. 

“Why?” Sousuke demanded. 

“You know how I was saying it was going to be a good day?” Makoto asked, tilting his head. 

“...Yeah.” 

“Well, as it turns out, it was not a good day. I cried in a public bathroom,” Makoto chirped. He laughed, hiccuping a little. “But I feel much better, now. Except my head hurts and I kinda want to die.” 

“What happened? Why wasn’t it a good day?” Sousuke said, as gently as possible. They reached Makoto and Tanaka’s floor and moved from the stairway to the hall. Both Sousuke and Tanaka puffed with the effort of carrying Makoto forward. “You said you had a good feeling.” 

“I did. But I was wrong. Sometimes that happens, Sousuke. Sometimes people are wrong.” Makoto turned to look in Tanaka’s general direction. “Did you know that Sousuke’s dad is in jail? He’s, like, a criminal. Isn’t that so sad?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m weeping my eyes out,” Tanaka said sarcastically. They stopped in front of the dorm and Tanaka fumbled with his keys, hurriedly unlocking the door. They squished through, and Sousuke led Makoto to his bed, one hand on his back and the other on his stomach. Makoto flopped over and dissolved into a fit of giggles, his face pink with alcohol and giddiness. 

“Tanaka-kun, isn’t Sousuke pretty? He’s so pretty. I want to kiss his pretty face all the time, you know.” 

“Yup. He’s a real looker,” Tanaka said, moving to close the door. 

“Sometimes I want to take all of his clothes off and kiss him all over, you know,” Makoto continued. He wriggled on his back to lay his head in Sousuke’s lap and looked innocently up at him, smiling wide. “Did you know that, Sousuke? Did you know that I sometimes want to take all your clothes off? I want to take all your clothes off til you’re butt naked, Sousuke. I saw you a couple times in the shower rooms when you were naked, back in high school. You look really good naked.” 

Sousuke winced, panic swirling in his stomach. He looked up at Tanaka with a sharp glare. “You have to know something else. He didn’t say anything about why he’d get this drunk?” 

“Not a thing,” Tanaka said, shrugging. “He literally just came home and demanded that we go out. What else was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, man, but I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s wrong?’”

“Uh, yeah?” Sousuke curled his lips back in a snarl. “You seriously didn’t ask him anything?” 

“Look, he made it pretty obvious that he didn’t want to be interrogated,” Tanaka snapped. “So I didn’t. I was his drinking buddy, not his therapist.” 

Makoto burst into giggles, hiccuping viciously. “Tanaka-kun the therapist,” he chortled. Sousuke and Tanaka exchanged concerned looks as he fell into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides, his wet hair turning Sousuke’s pants wet. After a couple moments of uncontrolled giggling, he suddenly stopped, as if someone had turned off a switch. His green gaze went wide, and he looked up at Sousuke like a horrified kitten, his lips parted in horror. Sousuke’s heart clenched at the sight. 

“Makoto?” he asked gently, swallowing. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto whispered. Fat tears began to brim in his eyes, and he choked on a sob, his attractive features crumbling. He lifted one hand to cup Sousuke’s face as tears dripped down his cheeks. “Oh, Sousuke. Sousuke, I’m so, so, sad. Sousuke, I’m really sad.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke managed, nearly choking on the words. He forced Makoto into a sitting position and pulled him close, and Makoto sobbed into his shoulder, holding him tight. Sousuke’s entire being burned with anger and panic at seeing Makoto like this. He held him as close as physically possible, his hand coming up to cup Makoto’s nape and soothe his dripping hair. “Makoto, why are you so sad?” 

Makoto didn’t reply. He sobbed harder into Sousuke’s shirt, clawing desperately at Sousuke’s back. Sousuke’s skin burned under the possessive pressure of his fingers, but he didn’t bother fighting it. He’d had marks the next day, but he didn’t care. 

“I’m going to go,” Tanaka whispered softly, and it was the gentlest Sousuke had ever heard his voice. “Do you mind if I stay in your dorm, Yamazaki?” 

“Go ahead,” Sousuke muttered, and he was vaguely aware of Tanaka opening the door and leaving. 

“S-Sousuke,” Makoto whimpered against him. His entire body shook and convulsed. “Sousuke, please don’t laugh at me. Please don’t laugh, okay?”

“It’s okay, Mako,” Sousuke whispered, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. C’mere, let’s lay down. Okay?” 

“O-okay.”

They shifted into a lying position, and Makoto hugged Sousuke close, so desperately that Sousuke’s shoulder ached in protest. He ignored it and held Makoto as tightly as he could, burying his nose in Makoto’s damp, rain-smelling hair. 

He drifted off to the sound of Makoto’s dwindling sniffles and the pound of rain.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :')

Sousuke woke up to the sound of painful, agonized retching. 

The moment the strangled gasps and exhausted pants touched his ears, Sousuke’s eyes flew open. He sat up, the hair on one side of his head flattened from the pillow. It took a second to adjust to consciousness, and another second to place the source of the sickened sounds. They echoed from the dorm bathroom, choked with sobs and interrupted by the horrible sounds of something splattering. The spot where Makoto had been sleeping beside him was cold and empty. It took an embarrassingly long time to put two and two together. 

Sousuke tripped over himself on several different occasions trying to get untangled from the blankets. He stumbled to the bathroom, his head spinning a little from standing up too fast, and slumped against the doorframe, peering in. The horrible sounds were definitely coming from one of the two toilet stalls, tucked neatly behind the showers. Sousuke’s stomach knotted.

“Makoto?” he asked, easing slowly into the bathroom. 

“Sousuke,” a weak voice greeted him. 

Sousuke swallowed. “Hey. Where are you?” 

“O-one of the toilets.” 

“Can I come see you?” 

“Y-yeah.” 

Sousuke’s heart was in serious danger of splitting in two at the sound of Makoto’s voice. His short replies quivered with insecurity and pain, which was a far cry from his usual pleased purr and friendly chirp. Sousuke crept forward and peered into the closest stall. 

Makoto was crouched in front of the toilet, his hand gripping the porcelain desperately, his head bent. His body looked as if it had caved in on itself, curled up and folded uncomfortably into a position that made Sousuke wince in sympathy. His cinnamon hair, still a little damp from the rain the night before, stood out in awkward angles from fingers running hopelessly through it. The hand that wasn’t holding onto the toilet for dear life had his bangs secured back, away from his face and away from the danger of the splashing contents of the toilet bowl. He was shivering like a leaf, and Sousuke thought, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he’d never looked more like a lost little duckling. 

Makoto looked up when he entered the tiny toilet stall, his apple-green eyes flashing so unhappily that Sousuke resisted the urge to crush him into a giant bear hug. (If he did that, Makoto would probably wither.) Tear-marks lined his flushed cheeks, and his bottom lip was raw and torn up from gnawing on it. A small, pained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he lifted the hand not holding his hair back in greeting. 

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“H-hey,” Sousuke said. He looked briefly at the toilet before glancing away as quickly as possible. The little stall smelled like death and alcohol. 

“Um, good morning?” Makoto offered weakly, trying for a pained smile. He sat back on his heels and let his bangs drop back into his eyes. He laughed a little, wincing. “Sorry. I probably look like I’ve seen hell, right? It certainly smells like hell in here, if that counts for anything.”

Sousuke didn’t reply. He studied Makoto’s face, his lips curled into a concerned line and his eyebrows angling up. Makoto met his gaze tentatively, as if he was expecting a punishment of some sort. They watched each other for a moment, the air between them aching with unvoiced questions and uncertain answers. Sousuke urged himself to ask what he needed to, to let the demanding words swirling around in his mind escape his mouth. 

Things like, ‘are you okay?’ and ‘where did you go?’ and ‘Why the fuck did you do this to yourself?’ Those types of things, that people were supposed to ask when someone was crouched in front of a toilet after disappearing mysteriously for an entire day, only to return drunk and sobbing. But, for some reason, Sousuke couldn’t bring himself to ask stuff like that. Gods, if that didn’t say something about who he was as a person, than nothing did. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto mumbled after a moment. He broke eye-contact and looked down at this hands, shifting a little to sit back on his heels. “Sousuke, please say something. You’re looking at me weird, and I can’t tell if you’re angry with me when you make that face.” 

Sousuke blinked, momentarily forgetting his loss of words. “What face?” 

“The one you’re making right now. As if you’re…” Makoto winced. “Disgusted.” 

That one word, those three syllables, were like a punch to the gut. Sousuke nearly staggered from the meekness of Makoto’s voice when he said it, the pained expression in his vivid green eyes. He swallowed, and tried to shake whatever expression his face had made immediately away. 

“You seriously think I’m disgusted by you?” he asked, the hurt in his voice clearly evident. 

“W-well, the way you were looking at me, with your eyebrows all scrunched like that… And you were scowling, and your nose was wrinkled…” Makoto trailed off, his cheeks flushing a deeper pink. He stared hard at his hands, gnawing on his raw, scarlet lip. “Sorry.”

Sousuke found the energy to huff. “Don’t apologize for my face.” 

Makoto cracked a small smile, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “W-well, then don’t make misleading faces. It freaks me out, and I can’t help but apologize.” His shoulders slumped a little. “Like I apologize for everything.”

Sousuke just grunted, the panic that had been dictating his mind subsiding a little. He leaned over Makoto and flushed the toilet, careful not to look at its contents, before straightening again and moving closer. He sat down on the tile in front of Makoto and crossed his legs indian-style, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. Makoto eyed him warily, as if he still wasn’t clear on Sousuke’s intentions. 

“How’s your head?” Sousuke asked. 

Makoto gave a little shrug, and lifted a hand to absently rub his temple. “It hurts like a bitch.” 

Sousuke snorted. “You swore. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’ve been a bad influence.”

“...No need to rub it in,” Makoto said with a sigh. 

“Do you want aspirin?” 

Makoto hesitated, but gave a tiny nod. “Y-yes, please.” 

“Alright. Stay right there, and don’t move,” Sousuke ordered gently, and stood again. He padded across the bathroom tile to the medical kit that every dorm bathroom had, and unzipped it, before reaching in to feel around for aspirin. Cool plastic grazed his fingers, and he tugged the tub out by the cap, before quickly unscrewing it and emptying two pills into the palm of his hand. 

“Do you have any cups?” he asked over his shoulder. 

“Y-yeah. There should be a clean mug by the sink.” 

Sousuke glanced around, scowling. “There’s not. But there’s a tupperware.” 

“....It’s better than nothing, I suppose.” 

Grunting in agreement, Sousuke snagged the tupperware between his fingers, flicked on the tap, and held it under to fill it. Satisfied with the water's height, he returned back to Makoto’s stall and crouched again in front of him, holding out the pills and tupperware demandingly. “Drink.” 

“Thank you,” Makoto mumbled, taking them both with soft hands. His touch lingered against Sousuke’s in a silent confirmation of his gratefulness, before he slipped the pills past his lips and took a careful sip of the water to wash it down. 

Sousuke scowled. “Drink all of it.” 

Makoto blinked at him. “I… don’t think I can, Sousuke.” 

“It’ll help. You need to stay hydrated.” 

“But there’s so much, and I don’t want to throw up again-” 

“Drink,” Sousuke said firmly. Makoto frowned, giving him an irked look, before lifting the water to his lips again and tilting his head back to swallow it all. His adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp, and Sousuke sat back, satisfied, when he set the empty tupperware on the tile beside the toilet. 

“Happy?” Makoto asked, with half-hearted sharpness in his tone. 

“Almost,” Sousuke said. He stood again and moved back to the dorm, before stripping Tanaka’s bed of its covers and gathering it all up in his arms. He padded back with his jaw and shoulders set, worming into the small confines of Makoto’s stall with the mountain of blankets. Makoto let out an overwhelmed yelp as he dropped them on the ground with a soft thump. He tried to scoot away, but Sousuke crouched in front of him and put a secure hand on his shoulder, holding him still. He gripped the blanket by the corner and directed it around Makoto’s shoulders, doing his best to swaddle Makoto in a fluffy, comfortable burrito. 

“Sou-” 

“Shhh.” Sousuke gave him a warning look that cut off any further protests, and Makoto grudgingly fell silent, a pout on his torn lips. Sousuke kept their gazes locked as he secured the blankets in Makoto’s lap, gently leading part of it to rest on Makoto’s damp hair. He smiled softly and sat back to inspect his handy-work. Makoto looked like a bundled-up nun, with his hair covered like that. 

“This isn’t necessary, Sousuke,” Makoto whined, tugging fretfully at the blankets. “I have a hangover, not a fever.”

“Yeah, but something mental was the cause of that hangover. And blankets help with mentality.” 

Makoto looked away, his face flushing. “...You don’t know if it was mental.” 

“Right, because you normally go out right after class to get roaring drunk,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward again to smooth the folds of the blanket. “Just… snuggle up. It’ll help calm you down, or some shit.” 

Makoto studied him for a moment, before a small smile tugged at his lips. He laughed. 

Sousuke scowled. “What?” 

“Nothing. You’re just really cute, when you’re worried,” Makoto hummed, and he offered a weak, fond smile that made Sousuke’s heart thump a little harder. Sousuke felt heat rise to his face, and quickly looked away, scowling at the wall. 

“Whatever. Stay here and try not to throw up. I’m getting you food.” 

Makoto snagged his sleeve before he could straighten. “I’m not hungry, Sousuke.” 

“You need food,” Sousuke said. He brushed Makoto’s hand off. “You just threw up your guts. If you don’t eat something, you’re going to cave in on yourself.” 

“I’m not going to cave in on myself,” Makoto said, laughing a little. He tugged at Sousuke’s sleeve again. “C’mon, stay here. Stop moving for a second and let me appreciate your cuteness.” 

“No. Food first. Cuteness later,” Sousuke growled. He booped Makoto’s nose. “And I’m not cute.” 

“Yeah, you are. You’re as cute as a snoot.” 

Sousuke cocked an eyebrow. “What’s a snoot?” 

“I don’t know. My grandma says that a lot. Whenever I visit, she pinches my cheek and talks about how tall I am, and then she says I’m still as cute as a snoot.” Makoto laughed. “I usually choose to take it as a compliment.” 

“Well, whatever a snoot is, I can assure you that it is cuter than me. Because I am not cute.” 

Makoto tilted his head and wrinkled his nose teasingly. “Yes, you are, you big fibber.” He tugged at Sousuke again. “C’mon, cutie patootie. Sit with your hungover boyfriend.” 

“You just want me for my big, muscly, not-at-all cute arms,” Sousuke said, grudgingly sliding down to sit next to Makoto. He wrapped one arm around his blanket-covered shoulders and tugged him closer, and Makoto tilted his face up so their noses brushed. 

“Mm, that too,” Makoto hummed, closing his eyes and sighing. 

“Don’t puke on me.” 

“I’ll try not to.” 

Sousuke pulled a dramatic face. “Well, as long as you put in the effort.” 

Makoto laughed, letting his cheek rest against Sousuke’s shoulder. Sousuke smiled at the sound and rubbed his back absently through the blankets, grazing his nose against those soft, tangled locks of cinnamon hair. They sat there for a moment, leaning against each other in a tiny dorm bathroom, before Sousuke gently pinched Makoto’s chin between his fingers and forced their gazes to meet. Makoto grimaced at the sudden movement, but complied, studying Sousuke with sleepy, pained eyes. He gnawed on his lip, and Sousuke resisted the urge to pop his face and make him stop, so he wouldn’t bleed. He distracted himself by grazing his free hand across Makoto’s flushed cheek, his thumb lightly pressing against the slightly damp skin. 

“You’ve been crying,” he murmured. 

Makoto hesitated, but gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.” 

“Because of the vomiting, or something else?”

Makoto looked away. “B-both.” 

“Hm.” Sousuke settled back, glancing at Makoto out of the corner of his eye. “You can tell me, you know.” 

“...I know. I just…” 

“You don’t want to.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Sousuke. I just don’t want you to…” Makoto trailed off again, gnawing harder on his lip. A pearl of blood blossomed underneath the pressure of his teeth. His tongue caught it before it could spill. “I don’t want you to get angry. I don’t want you to do anything stupid.” 

Sousuke tensed. “Makoto, why would I be angry?” 

“I don’t know. I just know you will be.” 

“Makoto, I’m not going to get angry at you-” 

“N-not at me,” Makoto interrupted, flushing. He stared down at the blankets and tugged absently at them. “Look, I… I came out to my parents, yesterday.” 

Sousuke immediately tensed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’d just finished my mathematics presentation, and it had gone really well, like I had thought it would. I’m usually so bad with presentations, so actually doing well on one isn’t really a frequent occurrence for me. And it was still raining, which was nice, and I’d spent the morning with you, and I had swimming later…” Makoto’s shoulders slumped. He met Sousuke’s gaze, his green eyes flashing with disappointment. “Right then, I felt more confident about myself than I had in a long time. I felt like some otherworldly force had given me some sort of extra boost, and I didn’t want it to go away, you know? Haru and my friends at the poetry cafe have been telling me to come out to my family as soon as possible, to get it over with, but I hadn’t felt confident enough about it. Until yesterday, that is.” 

He sighed and rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes. “So I did it. I skipped the class after my math presentation and went down to the cafe. Pepper cuddled with me when I called them, in a corner, where nobody could eavesdrop, and… Shit. I was so excited, Sousuke. I felt so good, dialling my house’s number. I wasn’t scared at all. It was so weird, but it felt so good, you know?” 

Sousuke nodded numbly. “Yeah.”

“We talked for a long time before I actually came out and said it,” Makoto continued. He shivered, and pulled the blankets closer around himself. “I tried to drop some hints, to kind of ease them into it, but they didn’t catch a single one. That was really annoying, so I just kinda… dropped it on them. Like a bomb. And as I said it, you know what I was thinking? I was thinking, ‘alright, mom and dad. Here I am. Deal with it, or don’t deal with it.’” 

Sousuke swallowed. “And… did they deal with it?” 

Makoto closed his eyes tighter, his eyebrows angling up and his chin wobbling a little. “No.” 

They both fell silent, the single word uttered from Makoto’s lips hanging heavily in the tiny stall. Sousuke’s mouth suddenly felt dry, as if he’d swallowed sand. He felt himself turn to stone, his arm stiff around Makoto’s shoulders, and Makoto turned to stone with him. They were a couple of statues, slumped up against each other, not daring to breathe, in that tiny little bathroom. 

The minutes passed, and Sousuke felt Makoto drift away, as if his body was being hollowed. The expression on his face was blank, his eyes unfocused. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raspy, as if he hadn’t used it in years. 

“They didn’t shout at me, you know. They weren’t angry at all, or disappointed, or anything.” He stared at the wall and sighed. “You want to know what they did, Sousuke? When I told them?” 

Sousuke swallowed. No. No, he didn’t want to know. 

“They laughed, Sousuke. They laughed at me,” Makoto said, not bothering to wait for a reply. His voice was unbearably cold. “They thought it was cute, that I was going through a little phase, or whatever. They started talking about how creative our generation is, to come up with labels like pansexuality to make ourselves feel good. They told me that it was okay to question myself, because that’s what everybody does in college. They talked to me as if I’m some sort of lost little boy, who doesn’t know what he’s doing. As if I haven’t been thinking about this for months, asking myself again and again who I am and what the hell I’m doing with my life.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, setting his jaw. Makoto looked away. He let out a shuddering breath. 

“It... It was so heartless, the way they laughed. I could tell they wanted to get angry at me, but they hid it behind laughter, like they always do. That just made it worse, because I could tell they were showing me their opinion through something that I couldn't blame them for. And I thought they were going to be happy for me, you know? It hurts more, because they’ve never been like this. I never expected for them to react like this…” His voice broke. “I’ve been putting off telling them because I was afraid of confirmation. Being pansexual felt like something special to Tokyo, and by telling my parents, I broke a sort of… barrier. I didn’t think that I’d have to be afraid of their actual reaction. They’ve always been supportive, and I don’t understand why this is any different, but it is, somehow. They thought it was a joke.” He closed his eyes and hissed. “I’m a fucking joke.” 

“You’re not a joke,” Sousuke said firmly. He tugged Makoto closer, a boiling, fiery rage beginning to swirl in his stomach. He clenched his hands into fists so hard that they quivered. 

“I am to them,” Makoto continued, shaking his head. He laughed humorlessly. “If they had yelled at me, I think I probably would feel better. If they’d yelled at me, at least they would’ve been recognizing my ability to make my own decisions, even if my decisions aren’t what they want. But they didn’t yell, they laughed… and it was like being a little kid again. You know when you were little, and you’d say something stupid, and the grown ups would laugh at you? It’s like that. But I’m not a kid, and I can’t just laugh along and pretend I know what the grown ups are laughing about.” 

He met Sousuke’s gaze, his intelligent eyes so heart-broken that it made every fiber of Sousuke’s being burn with a newfound hatred for these people he’d never met. 

“I don’t like knowing why they’re laughing, Sousuke. I don’t like it at all,” he said, his voice shaking. “I know I’m overreacting. I know that a lot of people deal with this sort of thing all the time, and that I have no right to complain or throw a tantrum because I was brought up in a problem-free family, but…” His chin trembled. “It hurts. It hurts really bad. I just… It was so humiliating. It was the most embarrassed I’ve ever been in my entire life. And that makes me so, so angry, because they somehow managed to make me feel ashamed of myself, without even acknowledging who I am at all.” 

Sousuke kept his mouth shut, afraid that if he tried to say anything, he’d end up snarling. Not at Makoto, but at what had caused Makoto’s greif. And right now, he doubted he had the right to do something like that. Not when Makoto was only just opening up about the day before. 

“You know what I did, Sousuke?” Makoto asked, a bitter smile coming to his face. He covered his eyes with his hands, his chin trembling. “I apologized. I apologized, like some sort of spineless coward who can’t handle the simplest of confrontations. They laughed in my face for telling the truth, and I was the one who ended up giving in and saying I was sorry. If that isn’t the most pathetic thing I’ve ever done, then I’ll be thoroughly surprised.” 

Sousuke tensed further, if that was even possible. “You… apologized?” 

“Yeah. To my own parents, for being pansexual.” Makoto leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and curled his fingers through his hair. “Gods.”

Sousuke bit back a deep snarl, and forced his voice to remain steady. “How did they manage-” 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s just because I apologize for everything, or if it’s because they managed to make me feel like my opinion of myself didn’t matter,” Makoto said. He shook his head. “My own opinion, Sousuke. As if I’m a piece of property, or something. Do you know how demeaning that is?” 

Tears welled up in his sharp green eyes, and a sob fell from his lips, echoing against the tile of the bathroom. His fingers curled tighter in his hair, making the strands stand out at awkward angles. Sousuke’s heart pounded in horror, the boiling fury in his gut subsiding a little and being replaced with concern. He rubbed Makoto’s back and rested his forehead against Makoto’s shaking shoulder. Makoto released his hair and covered his face, crying into the palms of his hands. 

“I’m such a coward,” he hissed. “I c-can’t even stand up for myself against my parents. They didn’t even get angry with me, and I s-still couldn’t do it.”

Sousuke didn’t say anything. He focused on rubbing Makoto’s back, tracing comforting swirls and circles across his shoulder blades. 

“And I was actually stupid enough to go get drunk,” Makoto continued. His breath was short, as if he was fighting for air through his sobs. “And I made you worry, and I could’ve gotten caught for underaged drinking, or run over by a car….” Makoto shook his head furiously. “The only reason why I’m not collapsed in some ditch right now is because of Tanaka-kun. He carried my sorry, drunken ass home, in the middle of a storm, all because I couldn’t handle telling the truth about myself to my parents. I know I’m overreacting, and I know that it really isn’t that bad, but it still h-hurts. It hurts so much.”

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” Sousuke murmured. He wrapped his arm around Makoto’s shoulders and pulled him close, blankets and all, and Makoto slumped against his chest and cried quietly into the crook of his neck. His tears felt hot and sticky against Sousuke’s skin, his breath ragged and feverish. He clung to Sousuke’s shirt with balled-up fists, clutching the material so tightly that Sousuke was afraid it would rip. The sharp anger returned to Sousuke’s stomach, and he held him as close as physically possible. He cupped the nape of Makoto’s neck in a protective grip. “It’s okay, Mako.” 

“N-no, it’s not. I fucked up, Sousuke,” Makoto choked into his shirt, inbetween sobs. “I fucked up bad. I can’t even…” He clenched his teeth and snarled, his toes curling. “I j-just needed some control, I guess. I needed to feel responsible for myself. Gods, I’m an idiot, getting that drunk over something like this. And making you worry and take care of me…” 

“Hey,” Sousuke snapped, more forcefully than he intended. Makoto winced at his voice. A slight whimper escaped his lips as Sousuke cupped his face and forced their gazes to meet. “Stop blaming yourself. It’s annoying. It isn’t your fault that your parents reacted the way they did.” 

“I know, but I-” 

“But nothing.” Sousuke huffed, and wiped the tears from Makoto’s face with his thumbs. His touch lingered against Makoto’s flushed cheeks, brushing the neat splattering of freckles that rested there. “It was stupid to go get that drunk, but it wasn’t unwarranted. You’re not going to hell because you reacted like a human being.”

Makoto’s tear-streaked face hardened slightly, slipping out of it’s vulnerable expression. “It was irresponsible, and I shouldn’t-” 

“Makoto, please,” Sousuke interrupted, smiling a little to himself. “You’re a nineteen year old freshmen, not a middle-aged mother with a husband and children at home. It’s okay to run away, every now and again. It’s okay to be surprised by your parents’ reaction.”

“It doesn’t feel okay…” Makoto said, sniffing. He looked away and wiped his eyes. “Gods, this is embarrassing.” 

Sousuke scowled. “Why?” 

“I just… I don’t like people seeing me cry, I guess,” Makoto mumbled, flushing. “I don’t like when people worry about me. It makes me feel like a bother.” 

“...That’s a little hypocritical, since you worry about literally everyone.” 

Makoto let out a humorless burst of laughter. “Yeah, I know. Haru tells me that a lot.” 

“Does Nanase know?” 

“Yeah. He was the first person I called, afterward,” Makoto said, looking at his hands. “I more or less locked myself in the cafe’s bathroom, and sort of… had a bit of a panic attack. Haru talked me through it, though. He calmed me down enough that I could make it up to my dorm and ask Tanaka-kun to take me out.” He laughed again and shook his head. The cruel sound sliced through Sousuke’s heart like broken glass. “Like a fucking idiot.”

Sousuke’s chest constricted painfully. “You had a panic attack?” 

Makoto offered a weak nod, flushing pink. “I-it wasn’t that bad, really. I just sorta… freaked out, a little. My parents really caught me off guard.” 

“Caught you off guard,” Sousuke echoed. An uncomfortable, almost painful anger sent a hot shiver through Sousuke’s body. He set his jaw, feeling an automatic snarl come to his face. The way Makoto said it… as if it was his fault for how they reacted. As if he should’ve known better, and hadn’t said anything. 

“Y-yeah.” Makoto met his gaze and winced. “I knew you’d be angry.” 

“How could I not be?” Sousuke demanded, running a hand through his hair. He glowered at the tile, his toes curling. “Shit, Makoto. They fucking laughed at you. You had a fucking panic attack. Of course I’m pissed.” 

“I know,” Makoto whispered. His voice cracked. “I know.” 

“You should’ve…” Sousuke trailed off, swallowing. “You should’ve told me. You didn’t need-” 

“I know,” Makoto said, his voice suddenly sharp. He looked at Sousuke unhappily. “I just… I just didn’t want to see you. I didn’t want to see anybody. I just wanted to be alone, and pretend like nothing had happened. Like I always do.” 

“That’s stupid,” Sousuke snapped. 

“You think I don’t know that?” Makoto shot back, his green eyes swimming with hurt. “I can’t help it. I’m just like my parents, you know. I avoid everything that poses a threat to me, because I’m terrified of change and being rejected. And it only makes it worse. It only makes it hurt more.” He let out a ragged breath, and slicked his hair back hurriedly. “What am I supposed to do, Sousuke? I’m not like you. I can’t just be okay with the fact that some people can’t accept me for who I am. It tears me apart, and I end up crying in a public bathroom, calling my best friend in the middle of his classes so I can calm down enough to stagger up to my dorm. It hurts so much, because I want to be like you, and I want to be unaffected by it, but I j-just… can’t.” He exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose. His voice was raspy and broken. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Sousuke remained silent. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap, glowering at the wall opposite him. They were silent for a long time, sitting stiffly side by side. Sousuke wanted to punch something. Preferably Makoto’s parents. Makoto had shown him pictures on his phone, and up until this point, Sousuke had trusted that the Tachibanas were just as sweet and considerate as their son. Hell, Makoto probably had thought the same. That just infuriated Sousuke more. 

He couldn’t for the life of him comprehend the problem the Tachibanas had with their son’s sexuality. Makoto had been nothing but a saint his entire life, as far as Sousuke was aware. He’d done nothing to warrant a reaction as cruel as the one he’d received. The poor kitten had literally locked himself in the bathroom of a cafe and suffered through a panic attack, because two middle-aged inconsiderates hadn’t had the decency to feel a shred of trust for their oldest kid. It was disgusting. 

“Give me your phone,” Sousuke ordered quietly, holding his hand out. His voice was scathing. 

Makoto blinked at him, his eyebrows coming together. “Why?” 

“I’m calling your parents and giving them a fucking peice of my mind.” 

A look of horror immediately came over Makoto’s face. “W-what?” 

“Just give me your phone, Makoto,” Sousuke snapped. His stomach writhed with desperation and fury. “Please. I can’t just sit here and let them get away with this. They don’t even know that you-” 

“Lecturing them isn’t going to solve anything,” Makoto said. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself and shook his head furiously. “It won’t help. It’ll only make it worse.” 

“You don’t know that,” Sousuke insisted. “Makoto, you can’t just sit and wallow while your parents go on living and believing that what they said to you is alright. It’s not.” 

Makoto gave him a pained look. “You’re not yelling at my parents, Sousuke.” 

“Who says I’m going to yell at them?” Sousuke snapped. 

“I do! Sousuke, you’ve been sitting here this entire time practically shaking with anger,” Makoto burst, his eyebrows drawing together. “You can barely go through a call with your own mother without yelling. I can’t trust you to be collected about this when you’re this worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up. I’m perfectly calm-” 

“You look like you’re going to murder someone.” 

“I always look like I’m going to murder someone,” Sousuke said. Under normal circumstances, that would’ve made Makoto laugh. But the only emotion that passed through those summer-green eyes was wary exhaustion. Sousuke huffed and held out his hand more determinedly. “Give me your phone, Makoto. I can’t just let you ignore this until it spills over.” 

“Why not?” Makoto asked weakly, his voice pained. His shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to think about it, anymore. I don’t want to make this snowball out of control, more than it already has.”

Sousuke gave him an incredulous look, his lips pulling back in a snarl. “You’re seriously going to let this fester? Your parents outwardly disrespected you and rejected your view of yourself, and you’re seriously going to do nothing?” 

“What else am I supposed to do? Force them to accept me?” Makoto demanded, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. The blankets fell from his shoulders, and he shivered, his chin trembling again. “It already hurts enough, Sousuke. I’m already humiliated, enough. Is it too much to want a break before I deal with this again? Is that too much to ask?” He ran his hand through his hair again, his fingers curling into the soft strands desperately. “I’m not like you. I can’t be angry and strong all the time. I just…. I just need to settle. Okay?” 

Sousuke fell silent, momentarily at a loss for words. The heart-broken aggression in Makoto’s voice rattled his heart, and his anger subsided somewhat. He exhaled and gave a small nod. “Okay.” 

Makoto’s face fell. He sighed and shuffled closer. “I’m sorry.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you seriously-” 

“N-not about that. I’m sorry for worrying you, and for being an idiot, yesterday.”

“Apologizing for that is just as bad as apologizing for taking time, Makoto.” 

“Just let me say it every once and awhile, okay?” Makoto said. He rested his head on Sousuke’s shoulder. “It makes me feel better. Most of the time, at least.” 

Sousuke sighed. “Alright, then. I’m sorry too, I guess. This is your business. I have no reason to force myself into it.” 

“I want you to force yourself into it,” Makoto mumbled softly. He paused before continuing. “Well, to an extent. I don’t want you to bother yourself or try to take control, but I like that you want to be involved. It… it feels nice, knowing that you care enough.” 

“Of course I care enough, dumbass,” Sousuke said with a sigh. He rested his cheek against Makoto’s hair. “People care about you, you know. You forget that too easily.” 

“I know,” Makoto mumbled. He turned his head into the crook of Sousuke’s neck, his nose brushing his skin. “I don’t… I don’t like people thinking I need to be cared for, though. I appreciate it, but it still makes me feel like a bother. Like a nuisance. I’m the big brother, and the captain, and the helpful best friend, right? That’s what I’m comfortable being. It makes me feel even more vulnerable and anxious when people get involved. I’m always so desperate for the tiniest sliver of control, because if even one thing goes wrong, I turn into a useless mess, and it’s just humiliating to have people see me like that.” 

Sousuke nodded. “You’ve got a lot of walls built up.” 

“Yeah.” He felt Makoto smile softly. “It’s a bad habit of mine.” 

“It’s not like I’m any better.” 

Makoto laughed a little. “No, you’re not. You and me… We’re a couple of wall-dwellers.” 

“Mm-hm,” Sousuke hummed, lifting one arm to rub Makoto’s back. Makoto sank into his touch, wrapping his own arms around Sousuke’s middle. He nuzzled deeper into his cuddle-buddy’s neck, his dry, torn lips kissing Sousuke’s skin softly. Sousuke couldn’t suppress a shiver at the feeling of his warm mouth. Those lips were usually so soft and wet. It felt weird when they were dry and cracked, but it was still Makoto. And Makoto never failed to make Sousuke’s entire body tingle. 

“Thank you,” Makoto murmured into his skin, his voice breathy. Sousuke didn’t miss the sting of a single hot tear against his collar as Makoto continued to kiss his neck. “I don’t deserve you.” 

Sousuke huffed. “That’s a pile of bullshit.” 

“No, it’s not,” Makoto insisted quietly. His lips dwindled up to Sousuke’s jaw, a hand coming up to cup Sousuke’s face. “You’ve been so supportive and uplifting… And you’re, like, both my boyfriend and my friend. And that makes me really happy. Even when life sucks.” 

“Me, too,” Sousuke said awkwardly, swallowing. He touched Makoto’s elbow with a finger. “You’re pretty cool, you know.”

Makoto smiled, his lips moving to Sousuke’s earlobe. “You’re pretty cool, too.” 

“Well, shucks.” 

Makoto laughed softly, and the tension in Sousuke’s stomach immediately loosened a little. He turned his head and caught Makoto’s mouth with his own, remaining excruciatingly careful with Makoto’s broken bottom lip. He touched his tongue to it as gently as possible, tasting the remnants of blood from Makoto biting it so hard. 

“Don’t kiss me,” Makoto murmured. The hand cupping Sousuke’s cheek moved to curl in his hair. “I just threw up. That’s gross.” 

Sousuke pulled away in the slightest and leaned their foreheads together. “That is gross.” 

“...I’ll brush my teeth.” 

“No, no. I mean, brush your teeth if you want. But don’t don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Sousuke managed, wincing. “Just… relax.” 

“I have class, today.” 

“No you don’t. Class is cancelled. I decided.” 

Makoto smiled. “You don’t get to decide when class is cancelled, Sousuke.” 

“Sure, I do,” Sousuke said. He leaned forward to peck Makoto’s lips, and Makoto whined in protest. “Stay home today. You’re hungover and… mentally hurt, or whatever. What if you have another panic attack? Or maybe you’ll throw up in the middle of a lecture.” 

Makoto shuddered. “That doesn’t sound very enjoyable.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

“But I need to take notes, and the calculus teacher has it out for me-” 

“Makoto, I’d like to politely ask you to remove the stick up your ass long enough to take care of yourself,” Sousuke said sharply. He brushed his thumb against Makoto’s cheek to lessen the sting of his tone. “Or I will.” 

Makoto gave him a look. “Are you offering to remove a stick from my ass? You can try, but I don’t think you’ll find anything.” 

“Oh, please. With your motherly worrying, there has to be something up there.”

Makoto laughed, and the exhaustion and hurt that had been dictating his expression lessened for a moment. He pressed his forehead against Sousuke’s and nuzzled his nose, and Sousuke couldn’t help the downright goofy smile that forced its way to his face. He pecked those dry lips again, and Makoto pulled away, screwing his face up in exaggerated disdain. 

“Not until I brush my teeth. And take a hot shower. And another pill for my head.” 

“Fine,” Sousuke said, pulling a fake pout. He ruffled Makoto’s hair, ran his thumb one last time over Makoto’s tear-flushed cheeks, and stood. “Do what you need to do. I’ll go get you food from the cafe. What do you want?” 

“... A chocolate bar would be nice.” 

“Okay. I’ll get you seven.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened in horror. “Sousuke! I can’t eat that much-”

“You can and you will,” Sousuke insisted, moving out of the bathroom with a smirk on his face. “I’m also getting you a giant tub of hot chocolate.” 

He was vaguely aware of Makoto huffing after him, pleased when he didn’t object.

\---000---

Tanaka was waiting outside the dorm when Sousuke slipped out with a fistfull of money. 

He was in the clothes he wore the night before, the material still a little dark from the rain. He glanced up when Sousuke opened and closed the door, straightening from the spot where he’d been leaning against the wall. Sousuke stopped and regarded him, pouting thoughtfully. 

“You could’ve come in, you know,” he said. “You live here.” 

Tanaka shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want to risk interrupting something sappy, and then making it awkward.” He tilted his chin up and narrowed his eyes at Sousuke. “Did you find out what was bothering him?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“And? Is he okay?” 

“I think. He threw up and cried, but talking about it helped, I guess.”

Tanaka relaxed a little, letting out a relieved puff. “Good.” 

“I’m going to get him food, now,” Sousuke said, nodding down the hall. “You can go in. He’ll probably bombard you with apologies and try to show his gratitude by selling his soul to you, but I think he’s too tired to do too much damage.” 

Tanaka smirked. “I think I can handle it.” 

“Just be prepared,” Sousuke said. He smiled fondly. “He’ll probably be more embarrassed, than anything.” 

“So I should brace myself for an unfortunate series of extreme blushing?” 

“I wouldn’t advice against it.” 

“Ugh. Alright, then,” Tanaka said, his shoulders shaking with slight laughter. He moved behind Sousuke to open the door to the dorm again. “Hurry back. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to fend off his angelic smiles and big doe eyes by myself.” 

“I’ll try to,” Sousuke replied, moving out of the way to give Tanaka room to slip in. A thought came to him, and he cleared his throat before Tanaka could close the door. “Wait.” 

Tanaka paused and lifted an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?” 

“Um… Thanks. For helping him back, and stuff. And for watching out for him at all, I guess.” Sousuke winced. “It means a lot, man. It makes me feel a little better that he’s around somebody who’s not going to judge him or make him feel worse.” 

Tanaka blinked up at him, before snickering. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Yamazaki. I couldn’t resist helping that big idiot even if I wanted to. I’m only human.” 

“I know it’s not a big deal. I’m just…” Sousuke huffed in frustration and rubbed the back of his neck, giving Tanaka a glare. “Look, I’m just trying to say I’m grateful. Makoto’s never been good with taking care of himself, so having somebody around to keep an eye on him is something I can appreciate.”

“You two are so gay for each other,” Tanaka replied, Sousuke’s words seeming to go right over his head. Sousuke scowled. 

“That’s… kinda the point. We’re dating.” 

“Whatever. I wouldn’t say no to a cappuccino, by the way,” Tanaka said, waving his hand dismissively. 

Before Sousuke could give a sharp remark in reply, the door was closed in his face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's a bit of a mess and Sousuke's a pretty cool boyfriend. :')

Two weeks passed.

As far as anyone else knew, nothing had happened. Makoto was still helpful, dedicated, and friendly, no matter the situation. He gave advice to people about their small, meaningless problems, helped with homework, practically screamed from the rooftops his encouragement to the world. People knocked on his door, begging for his help or inviting him to stupid things that Sousuke knew Makoto had no interest in. He went to all of them. That only encouraged the little parasites. Their faces lit up like a kid on Christmas every time he humored them. Girls hit on him mercilessly, (which wasn't out of the ordinary,) by laughing and touching him at every possible moment and making a complete fool of themselves. And Makoto just turned them down politely with the usual excuse: He was very much taken. He smiled so sweetly, no matter how rude the other half of his confrontation was. He laughed when people told corny jokes, interrupted arguments with a fond grin, and talked about small things, like the weather and a cat he’d seen earlier. 

It was all so fucking fake that Sousuke wanted to punch something 24/7. 

The popular world of Tachibana Makoto remained oblivious to the nights he spent in Sousuke’s dorm, his expression hollow and his bottom lip raw from gnawing on it. He didn’t cry, or snivel, or complain. He just tentatively invited himself in and curled up beside Sousuke while he studied, his expression falling as he drifted off into his own thoughts. 

He’d missed six calls from his parents since the… incident, and Sousuke didn’t have to ask to know it was eating him alive. 

Makoto had never missed a chance to talk to his family. Ever. 

He was afraid. Sousuke didn’t need to ask to know that, either. Makoto was afraid of being humiliated again, of being forced to feel like a little kid with no concept of what was best for him. He was afraid that his parents would laugh at him for other things, or that they’d bring the touchy subject of his sexuality back up for further ‘hilarity.’ He didn’t want to be so brutally mocked again, in a way that made it impossible for him to put full blame on his tormentors. Makoto was not one to fight. He was one to wait for the storm to pass, for the conflict to smooth itself over. And it would, eventually. Eventually he’d answer his family’s calls, apologize for being too busy to talk, and life would go on. This was merely the painful process of letting the wounds heal.

Sousuke hated it.

Sometimes, on the frequent nights Makoto was over, he’d read to Sousuke, when the silence was too much. Sometimes he’d fumble for Sousuke’s lips and skin like an alcoholic fumbling to bring the thick rim of a bottle to their mouth. Sometimes he’d fall asleep against Sousuke’s chest, and Sousuke would know that he shouldn’t expect to see him smile until the next day. Sousuke kinda wished he would cry, or something, so he’d have some idea of what was going on in his head. He found himself making due with the little signs Makoto wasn’t aware he was giving. 

Like how Makoto had suddenly become very conscious of physical contact between them in public. He wouldn’t object if Sousuke reached for his hand, but his fingers would stiffen and he’d glance around in silent panic, as if he expected someone to call them out. Some people actually did, which made it worse. If someone gave them so much as a disgusted look, Makoto would look down and flush such a bright shade of scarlet that Sousuke wanted to punch their audience’s face in. He settled with gripping Makoto’s hand tighter and shooting a sharp glare over his shoulder. 

Another little signal Makoto wasn’t aware he was giving off was his sudden infatuation with exercise. He’d always been pretty good with working out, (despite his obvious love for sweet things,) but this was bordering on unhealthy. He spent more time at the gym, more time swimming for the university team, more time running in the morning. Sousuke tried to keep up with him at first, but it was made pretty obvious after the first five days or so that this is how Makoto was distracting himself. So Sousuke would finish his usual schedule, and take the opportunity to catch his breath and grab them a couple of icecreams or something while Makoto ran himself out. It almost physically pained him when Makoto would return with his breath so short that he could barely speak. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Sousuke said at one point, scowling. Makoto had just returned from a lap around the national park’s lengthy track, and had stopped to catch his breath with Sousuke under the shade of a cherryblossom tree. He handed Makoto a water bottle, which Makoto took gratefully and immediately brought to his lips. “What, are you trying to end up like me? Getting matching boyfriend t-shirts would probably be a better idea.” 

Makoto laughed weakly, wiping a couple pearls of water from his lips. “No, no. I just figured I’d try to burn a little more fat, before the fall relay tryouts start up.” 

That was a cute way of putting it. 

“Well, don’t kill yourself. You need to cut back a little,” Sousuke said. “You’re piling too much.” 

“I’m keeping balanced-” 

“To hell with balanced. Balanced doesn’t matter if you’re working out nonstop.” He gave Makoto an irritated scowl. “Your body needs to heal, dumbass.” 

A flash of annoyance caught in Makoto’s green eyes, despite his fond smile. “You worry too much. I’ll be okay. Really. As soon as relay tryouts end, I’ll go back to the normal routine.” 

“Promise?” 

“Yeah.”

Sousuke’s frown deepened. “Say it all.” 

Makoto huffed. “Alright. I promise I’ll go back to our original regimen as soon as tryouts are over,” he said, holding a hand over his chest. He tilted his head and gave a lopsided smile. “Happy?” 

“Mm.” Sousuke grunted with satisfaction, before snagging the elastic of Makoto’s shorts and pulling him closer. Makoto yelped and stumbled against his chest, his face immediately flushing. He glanced around for anyone who was possibly watching, before tentatively reaching up to curl his fingers in Sousuke’s hair and giving his hot cheek a kiss.

“Thanks for worrying about me,” he murmured into Sousuke’s skin. 

“I’m not worrying. I’m just… warning,” Sousuke replied, sniffing. Makoto laughed. There was something about it, though… it didn’t sound as genuine as it had before. Almost hollow. Like the energy that Makoto put into showing his affection when people were around had weakened. 

“Well, I appreciate it. C’mon, we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry back.” 

\---000---

“Sousuke.” 

A soft whisper, accompanied with an iron grip on his arm, is what woke Sousuke up. Understandably, Sousuke’s eyes flew up and he jolted. He wasn’t sure what he expected to wake up to, but he had to say, he was a little relieved when he was met with Makoto’s shining green eyes in the darkness. That pretty face was much preferable to a murderer. Or even worse: Fujioka.

They must’ve fallen asleep studying, as they usually did. Makoto’s nose brushed his, their long legs tangled under the blankets and the flurry of studying material. Sometime during the night Sousuke had twisted onto his side and pulled their bodies close, one arm flung around Makoto’s waist and their foreheads resting against each other. The other arm was acting as a pillow for Makoto’s soft hair. It prickled with pins and needles, but Sousuke didn’t want to move away. He didn’t want to disturb the position Makoto had found for himself. 

It was still dark out. The electric clock on Sousuke’s bedside table read 3:46 am, and the lazy sounds of distant traffic outside mingled with the quiet whirring of the fan on the ceiling. Sharp, dry lights from street lamps and the moon cut through the blinds of the dorm, landing on the matted carpet in slender rectangles. Fujioka’s bed was empty and stripped of its sheets. Sousuke vaguely remembered him saying something about washing the puke out of them and never coming back. 

Blinking sleepily, Sousuke focused again on Makoto’s face, forcing himself to concentrate. Makoto looked as if the lines of his body touching light had been traced with silver. His green eyes were a splash of color in a mess of muddled blues and greys, the glistening wetness of his lips and his freckled cheeks a source of light themselves. His features and lean body had been sculpted from stone: sharp and clear and dangerously beautiful. Lying there beside Sousuke, he looked like a freshly cut jewel, just waiting to be appreciated. 

“Mako,” Sousuke whispered, his voice raspy. He sighed through his nose and shifted closer, his eyes drifting shut again. “What is it?”

“I… I wanted to talk to you,” Makoto whispered. 

“Mm. ‘Bout what?”

“About my siblings,” Makoto said hesitantly. Sousuke frowned, his eyes still comfortably closed. 

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about… other things, at this time at night?” he asked, easing his hand from Makoto’s waist to his ass, sleep still too fresh in his mind to be very considerate of Makoto’s serious tone. He held Makoto tight and brushed his thumb across the soft fabric of his sweatpant's back pocket, prompting a soft sigh from Makoto’s lips.

“I had a bad dream about them, and now I want to talk about it,” Makoto said, swallowing. He didn’t bother moving away from Sousuke’s hand, and even pressed into it a little. Fuck, he had a nice ass. “I n-need to say it outloud, before I forget it. And I need you to tell me that I’m crazy.” 

“You’re crazy,” Sousuke mumbled obediently. He squeezed, and Makoto sighed again, his sweet breath billowing against Sousuke’s bottom lip. 

“I haven’t told you what happened, yet,” he said. 

“Mmm. Then tell me,” Sousuke purred. He forced himself up into a sitting position just long enough to settle on top of Makoto, their stomachs pressing against each other and their legs twining. His mouth found Makoto’s neck and began entertaining itself with small, sleepy kisses. Makoto’s arms wrapped around his middle. He tilted his head back to give Sousuke more space. “I’m listening.” 

“Are you really?” Makoto asked.

“Mm-hm.” 

“Part of me thinks you’re just going to fall asleep on top of me in the middle of me telling you.” 

“I won’t,” Sousuke promised against his skin. He rolled his hips experimentally against Makoto’s, but didn’t press when Makoto didn’t respond. “Really. I’m listening.” 

“...Okay. Okay, so this is what happened,” Makoto said, his voice soft and unsure. “I was… I was back at Iwatobi. At home. But I wasn’t me. I was Ran. I was Ran, and I was living Ran’s life, as if I’d never been me. I knew that I existed, because mom and dad and Ren talked about me here in Tokyo, but I wasn’t me, I was Ran, somehow. And I was older. Like, fifteen years old, maybe. And I was… really sad, for some reason. It didn’t make sense. Ran’s never been as sad as I felt being her, in this dream. And I don’t think I had a reason to be that sad. I just… was. I was so sad that I thought about running away, or hurting myself. Ren tried to talk to me about it, but I didn’t want to, because he didn’t understand. He was happy and perfect and good at everything he did, and that just made me sadder.” Makoto paused. He swallowed. “I thought about killing myself, Sousuke. It was as if I was Ran, and I thought about killing myself.” 

Sousuke stopped kissing him. He shifted his weight onto his elbows and looked down at Makoto’s face, the last traces of sleep diminishing altogether. Makoto studied him with a concerned expression, his eyes anxious. 

“It was just a dream, but it felt so real. I felt like I really was Ran, and that I really was feeling all of those things. It was horrible, Sousuke.” He shook his head and sighed, his gaze drifting to the window. “In the dream, I tried to tell mom and dad about it. I tried to tell them that I wanted to get away from myself, and that I didn’t want to talk to anybody or see anybody, but they just brushed it off as a mood swing. Because I was a girl, or something, and because I was a teenager. Sousuke.” Makoto met his gaze again, but this time those green eyes were sharp with desperation. “They reacted to Ran being depressed the exact same way they reacted to me being pansexual.” 

Sousuke didn’t reply. He eased himself off of Makoto and fell back to his side, their legs still heavily tangled in the blankets and with each other. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah. I’ve been… thinking about this for a while…” Makoto mumbled, shifting to face him. He swept his hair away from his face. “About my parents not supporting Ran and Ren, either. With important stuff like this. I’m so worried that they’re going to feel like they can’t talk about this sort of stuff with anybody, or if they’ll feel rejected for being a certain way. Maybe I’d be less worried if I was there with them, to talk to them and let them know that they can be whoever they want to be…” He closed his eyes tight and sighed. “But I’m being paranoid, right? It was just a dream. They’re only ten. They won’t be thinking about stuff like this for a while, right? Tell me I’m crazy.” 

“...You’re crazy,” Sousuke said, wincing. The uncertainty in his voice was ridiculously obvious. 

Makoto’s eyes widened. “Y-you think that could actually happen?”

Sousuke had never wanted to resay something more in his life. He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet Makoto’s desperate gaze. “I mean… It’s possible. People go through things, and you don’t know when they will or how they will.” 

Makoto just stared at him, his lips parted and his eyes the size of dinner plates. “I never should’ve left them.” 

“H-hey, now,” Sousuke said. He shifted closer and brushed his thumb over Makoto’s cheek. “That’s stupid. You can’t be around them forever.” 

“But you said it yourself. They’re going to go through bad things, and if I can’t trust my parents to accept them and take care of them, then-” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke snapped in a quiet voice. He traced Makoto’s jaw as soothingly as he could. “You can trust your parents to take care of them. What happened between you doesn’t change the fact that they’ve raised you and your siblings just fine so far. They’re not monsters. Assholes, sure. But they’re not going to eat your brother and sister while they’re sleeping.” 

“But I’m not worried about them being eaten, I’m worried about them feeling accepted,” Makoto insisted, his voice strained. “Maybe they don’t feel like they need to be now, but sooner or later they’re going to deal with bad stuff, or start questioning who they are. What if Ran realizes she’s bisexual, or something? What if Ren realizes he doesn’t want to be a boy anymore? I can’t say that’ll happen, but if it does, can I seriously trust my parents to be there for them? After this?” 

“Hey-” 

“I’ve never had to be wary about my parents around my siblings, before. But now I can’t help but be,” Makoto continued, his breath short. He began to shake slightly, and gnawed desperately on his lip, staring at a fixed point on Sousuke’s chest. “I t-think about what Ran and Ren might have to deal with, and I think about my parents laughing at them and m-making them feel unimportant, and it just scares me and angers me so much at the same time, and all I want to do is talk to them and make them feel special and loved and I j-just-”

“Hey. That’s enough,” Sousuke said with a firm voice. He dragged Makoto close to him and held him tight, forcing Makoto’s face into the crook of his neck and wrapping his arms around him to calm the shaking. He was no expert, but he knew what the beginnings of a panic attack looked like. He’d lived with Keiko long enough during her teenage years of social anxiety and unpredictable reactions to figure it out. “It’s okay. Ran and Ren are fine.” 

“B-but what if they’re not-” 

“They are. Makoto. They’re ten years old. You spoke to them two weeks ago. It’s going to be okay.” 

“W-what if I can’t see them anymore? What if my parents-”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But if it does, then-”

“It won’t.”

“But-”

“Makoto.”

Makoto fell silent, his breath ragged. He tucked his forehead down against Sousuke’s collarbone, and his hands inched upward to curl in the fabric of Sousuke’s flimsy t-shirt. Sousuke stared hard at the wall opposite him, setting his jaw and shutting his eyes tight as he listened to Makoto’s labored panting. Every catch of his throat, every pained, hurried puff, was like a pocket knife’s short blade being pressed against his stomach. Makoto shook in his arms, as if he were a porcelain vase teetering on the edge of a high spot. He and Sousuke were nearly the same size, but in that moment, in Sousuke’s embrace, he felt so ridiculously small and pitiful that it made Sousuke’s chest constrict. 

“S-Sou…” Makoto whimpered, her voice strained. He clung harder to Sousuke’s shirt. “I c-can’t… breathe…” 

“Yes you can. You’re okay. It’s all in your head.” 

“I ca-can’t… b-breathe,” Makoto said again. His breath quickened, each intake raspier and more forced than the next. He grasped at Sousuke’s shirt as if something was about to wrench them apart. “Oh, g-gods. It’s s-so hard to b-breathe, S-Sou.”

“I know,” Sousuke whispered. It was a struggle to keep his voice level and cool. Like he wasn’t internally panicking, or anything. He focused on tracing lazy, comforting circles on Makoto’s back. “Don’t try to talk. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Y-you’re here.” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Y-you’re not g-going to leave m-me,” Makoto whimpered, as if trying to convince himself. His voice was the weakest Sousuke had ever heard it. “Y-you’re here.” 

“That’s right.” 

“Y-you’re n-not going to l-leave me?” 

“No, Makoto. I’m not going to leave you,” Sousuke said carefully, swallowing. He held Makoto closer and closed his eyes tight. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I-I-I just can’t… b-breathe.” 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

“M-my heart is going s-so fast,” Makoto managed between labored panting. With a shaking, weak hand, he took Sousuke’s wrist and led it to his chest to rest against his heart. “L-look.” 

It took every fiber of Sousuke’s being not to stiffen. Makoto’s heart pounded against his palm, much quicker and faster than what was generally accepted as healthy. It felt as if Makoto’s heart was going to burst out of his shuddering chest, like a fist beating repeatedly at the flimsy surface of a glass door. He was so close to shattering that Sousuke was afraid he’d dissolve into a million sharp shards right then and there. 

“It’s not that fast,” Sousuke heard himself say, and he thanked whatever deity was out there that his voice was soothing, yet unimpressed. He gently pushed against Makoto’s chest, as if forcing his heart to stay put. “You’re just fine, Makoto.”

Makoto whimpered. He gnawed hard on his bottom lip, his teeth bared and flashing in the dim light. A thin layer of sweat clung to his skin, making it shine unnaturally. His emerald eyes were narrowed to slits, his long eyelashes shuddering with the rest of his body. A fit of coughs dictated his entire being, making the bed heave, and he fought weakly for breath. “I… c-can’t… B-BREATHE.” 

“Yes you can,” Sousuke insisted. He brought his hand up to cup the nape of Makoto’s neck, swiping the sweat from his skin and pulling their faces close. “You can, Makoto. Okay? I know you can. You’re strong, Makoto. You’re going to be okay.” 

Makoto’s eyes flashed blindly, and for a moment they were drained of color, two pools of silver devoid of life and comprehension. He snarled, his hot breath hitting Sousuke’s lips. “I… c-can’t.” 

“Yes you can, Makoto. Breathe with me, okay? It’s not hard. Just breathe with me,” Sousuke ordered gently, his tone strict but quiet. He directed Makoto’s shaking hand to rest against his own chest, right over his heart. “You feel my heart, Makoto? You feel my lungs? Do you feel how easy it is to breathe? It’s so easy, Makoto. You can do it. You’re strong.” 

Makoto let out a shattered, dry sob. He nodded his head. “I’m s-strong.” 

“That’s right. C’mon, breathe with me. Deep breaths. You think you can do that, Makoto?” Sousuke said. He forced himself to speak as if he were coaching Ai or Momo. All directions, no complications. Keep it simple, Yamazaki. 

Makoto nodded again. “Y-yeah.” 

“Perfect. Alright, do it with me,” Sousuke said. He took a deep, exaggerated breath, his eyes never leaving Makoto’s. Makoto tried to follow his example, but he choked and fell into another fit of wheezing, tears coming to his eyes. His entire body swelled and shrunk with his panicked panting. Sousuke resisted the urge to curse. “That’s okay, that’s okay. We’ll try again.” 

“I d-don’t… I c-ca-can’t...” 

“Yes you can. You’re strong, remember?”

Makoto didn’t reply, but a determined look flashed through his wide gaze. He clamped his mouth shut and nodded, his nostrils flaring with ragged breaths. Triumph trickled through Sousuke. 

“Yeah, that’s right. You’re strong. C’mon, let’s try this again.” The hand not cupping Makoto’s nape pressed over Makoto’s fingers on his chest, keeping it secure over his heart. “Breathe with me.” 

He brought in a large swallow of air and held it in his lungs, his jaw set. Makoto cracked his lips open and inhaled sharply. He nearly choked on his own breath, but he managed to hold it for a couple of seconds before they both released. A shudder convulsed through Makoto’s body the second his lungs had emptied. 

“That was really good, Makoto. C’mon, one more time.” 

They repeated the process, and this time Makoto was able to breathe in without nearly hacking up his dinner. They exhaled without much effort. Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never been prouder of his boyfriend. 

“Good job. One more.” 

Makoto gave a tiny nod, and they did it again, matching each other nearly perfectly. Makoto’s entire body twitched and shook, but his breathing was returning back to normal, which was a start. 

“One more.” 

“One more.”

“One more.” 

Sousuke repeated himself again and again, until Makoto was quietly saying it with him, the color returning to his eyes and cheeks. They stared determinedly at each other, breathing in and out, until Makoto could inhale and exhale with no trouble. 

Sousuke wasn’t sure how long it took before Makoto stopped shaking. It felt like an eternity, but a more reasonable guess would probably be around ten minutes. The panic attack had come like the sudden swelling wave of a tsunami, and had retreated bit by bit, inching back one body-convulsing shiver at a time. When it was finally over, Makoto let out a final strained puff and curled up tight against Sousuke’s chest, his warmth settling over Sousuke and swallowing him whole. Sousuke released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and stroked Makoto’s soft hair, pressing his hand lightly to Makoto’s hip and brushing the fevered, damp skin underneath his shirt. 

“You okay?” he whispered. 

“Mm,” Makoto grunted weakly. He shifted closer to Sousuke, holding on to him tight. How he managed to find the energy to hold on to him so tightly was really beyond Sousuke’s comprehension. “I… T-that was really… sudden.” 

Sousuke nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Worse than the one… in the public bathroom,” Makoto murmured. His eyelashes fluttered against Sousuke’s neck, his warm, ragged breath touching his skin. “Bathroom one… I just couldn’t stop shaking… Never felt like… Couldn’t breathe…” 

“My sister used to get stuff like this,” Sousuke said. “She’d go through hot and cold flashes, too. And she’d start seeing things that weren’t there. She had a panic disorder when she was a teenager, but I don’t know if she still has it, now.” 

“... See things?” 

“Yeah. She’d see people’s faces in the middle of the night, or dogs with long teeth. When she was sixteen, it got so bad that she couldn’t even be in the same room with our dog without going berserk. Well, not berserk. But if our dog tried to touch her she’d flinch and immediately go somewhere else. Our poor old mutt had no idea what she’d done to deserve it.” 

Makoto sighed. He shuffled closer still, his lips brushing Sousuke’s adam’s apple. Despite the situation, Sousuke couldn’t help but feel a tingle of pleasure. “Must’ve been scary.”

“What was?” 

“Going through that… and you, being around when she did…” Makoto mumbled. “How old were you?” 

Sousuke frowned thoughtfully. “Hm. If Keiko was sixteen, that means I was… I don’t know. I’d probably just turned twelve. She started getting them around the time Rin left for Australia.” 

Makoto hummed, taking a deep, somewhat steady breath. “So young.” 

“I guess,” Sousuke said. “I mean, it wasn’t like I was the one experiencing them.” 

“But you must’ve… been worried. And scared.” 

“Well, yeah. It’s not something every kid wants to see their older sibling go through,” Sousuke said, shrugging one shoulder. Shit, he hadn’t thought about that in forever. “But I didn’t get to see it all that much to begin with. She usually just locked herself in her room until it went away. The only times I really saw any of it was when she had an attack while we were out in public, like once when my mom was picking us up from school. I remember she was sitting in the front, arguing with my mom about something stupid, and then she just sort of… froze up. She started shaking, and my mom had to pull over to calm her down.” 

He hadn’t thought about that day in a long, long time. He could still hear his mom and sister arguing, before the world suddenly seemed to stop and center on Keiko. Her muscles had locked, and her sea-green eyes had went wide, like a caged animal’s. When she’d turned to look at Sousuke, the afternoon light catching her lip and eyebrow piercings dangerously, every part of her tensed, she’d looked as if she were being torn apart from the inside. It was one of the freakiest things Sousuke had ever witnessed. Recalling it again, even now, was hardly a happy experience. 

“Your mom helped?” Makoto said softly. “With her… attacks?” 

“More or less. There’s only so much you can do behind a locked door.” 

“That’s terrible,” Makoto mumbled. He nuzzled Sousuke’s neck, his voice sounding hollow and drained. “Being alone during… something like this...” 

Sousuke closed his eyes and nodded. “She shouldn’t have locked herself away.” 

“Sounds like something you’d do.” 

“Huh?” 

“Sounds like something you’d do,” Makoto echoed himself simply. His lips brushed against Sousuke’s skin as he spoke. “Locking people out… Not letting yourself be comforted…” He lifted a hand to lazily trace Sousuke’s collarbone, his fingers so light that Sousuke questioned if they were really there. “You and your sister sound similar.” 

Sousuke scowled. “Yeah. I’ve been told that a lot.” 

“You don’t seem too thrilled ‘bout it.” 

“I’m not. Believe me, if you met her, you’d understand,” Sousuke said. He rolled his eyes. “She’s a real pain in the ass. All she ever does is complain and glower and shout. She’s like a walking migraine. A walking, smoking, growling migraine. With a freakish addiction to cola.” 

He felt Makoto smile weakly. “Doesn’t sound too bad. ‘Think I’d like her.” 

“Yeah, well. You like everybody.”

“I wanna meet her sometime,” Makoto murmured. He tapped Sousuke’s collarbone with a finger. “Wanna meet your parents, too.” 

“So you basically just want to be disappointed,” Sousuke said, snorting. 

“I won’t be disappointed.” 

Trust me, Makoto. If you met my parents, you would definitely be disappointed. They’re about as entertaining and easy to talk to as a pair of gym socks.” 

“Well, you had to have gotten it from somewhere,” Makoto said, smiling. 

“Ouch.” 

Makoto laughed lightly, his voice still hesitant and weak. Sousuke couldn’t help but smile at the sound. At least he’d gotten his mind off of the source of the panic attack long enough to joke. Sousuke didn’t think he’d heard his boyfriend genuinely laugh for a while now. It felt good to hear that bell-like voice again, no matter how fragile and exhausted. 

Makoto’s warm lips pressed against his neck, his slightly trembling fingers massaging the sharp angle of his collarbone. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sousuke hummed, closing his eyes. He squeezed Makoto closer and touched his lips to his forehead softly. “Glad you could get that out of your system.” 

“Me too. You… really helped. And I’m sor-” 

“Don’t,” Sousuke said, cutting him short. He shut his eyes tighter and sighed. “Just the ‘thank-you’ will do. I’m tired of you apologizing.” 

“I told you. I need to, sometimes.” 

“Well, not with me. I know that you’re sorry. You don’t have to say it every five minutes.” 

Makoto fell silent, but Sousuke didn’t miss the irritated exhale that touched his skin. For someone who was ridiculously patient most of the time, Makoto seemed to get butthurt pretty easily over Sousuke’s lack of interest in his apologies. Sousuke wasn’t sure if that was cute or equally annoying. 

“No need to pout,” he said, scoffing. “We can work out a system. Like, you can apologize five times a week, and if you go over that, then I’ll start complaining about Nanase. and if I complain about Nanase more than five times a week, then you can apologize all you want for the rest of it. And if we both make it through the week without complaining or apologizing, we can celebrate with icecream and TV shows and anime on my bed. And then making out.” 

“That sounds literally like every other weekend we’ve ever had together.”

Sousuke gave a firm nod. “Exactly. We don’t have enough money to do anything else.” 

“Fair enough,” Makoto said, laughing lightly again. He tilted his head up and placed a kiss on Sousuke’s chin, his dry, cracked lips lingering there for a moment. Sousuke looked down and closed the gap between their mouths. They kissed softly, heat transferring sluggishly between them.The hand on Sousuke’s collarbone came up to rest against his cheek. Sousuke’s heart did a painful little flutter when he felt the way those familiar, slender fingers still shook a little.

Their mouths parted with a wet smacking noise, and Makoto leaned back, his once-dry lips a little wet with Sousuke’s saliva and chapstick. The moonlight caught his cherry-red tongue as he touched it to his bottom lip to smooth the cracks from biting it. He watched Sousuke with sleepy jade eyes, clearly exhausted. His tan skin shown with a thin layer of sweat, but the way the dim light hit his features made him look beaded with frost, instead. He kissed Sousuke again, his lips barely a flicker of heat against Sousuke. Sousuke swallowed, a little disgusted with the arousal swirling in his stomach as Makoto pressed their bodies closer, their noses brushing. The way they were sprawled out on their sides had Makoto looking up at him, his long, curled eyelashes like thick black brushstrokes framing that vivid, pale green. The slender, elegant features of his face were serene and slack, and, as much as Sousuke adored Makoto’s smile, he kinda really loved Makoto’s face when it was expressionless. It was so open and trusting and so undeniably beautiful. It was the face of a regal young man that the Greek goddess Aphrodite would envy. Splattering of freckles and all. 

“I…” Sousuke mumbled, swallowing. Makoto blinked up at him, obviously fighting to stay awake. 

“Yeah?” 

“I, um…” What did Sousuke even want to say? That he loved him? That he hated seeing him so vulnerable and broken? That he thought about him hurting and wanted to punch the closest thing that could experience pain? “I, uh. Erm.” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto hummed. He lifted his hand from Sousuke’s cheek and curled his fingers softly in his hair, pulling him down for another kiss. The moment their mouths made contact, Sousuke suddenly understood. He understood everything Makoto had meant in that poem, every little detail that he’d mentioned before, about kissing Sousuke and tasting moonlight and metal and cherry blossoms. It was like every poetic word uttered from Makoto’s mouth over the past six months lay there between their lips, warming the places where they overlapped and collided like some sort of hot, syrupy sweetness that held them together, begging for them to continue touching for the rest of the night. A sudden energy coursed through Sousuke’s blood, and his vision pulsed with the colors of Makoto. Green and copper and tawny and gold. Fuck, that was it. That’s what Makoto was: a shimmering gold that never ceased to glow and distract. Sousuke was so sure of it that he could feel it in every minor beat of his heart. 

They pulled away again, and Makoto sighed, his breath hot. He closed those full lips of his and swallowed, a small smile on the corners of his mouth. His fingers curled tighter into Sousuke’s hair. 

“Silver,” he murmured. 

And before Sousuke could eke out any sort of awed, incredibly stupid response, he tucked his chestnut hair back into the crook of Sousuke’s neck and promptly fell asleep.   
And Sousuke was left staring at the wall opposite him, his lips heavy with the remnants of Makoto’s undeniably golden taste. 

After a few more stupefied moments of watching the wall as if it held all the answers, Sousuke let out a short, exhilarated chuckle and smiled to himself. He held Makoto tighter and buried his nose deep in that sweet-smelling, cinnamon-colored hair. 

Silver and gold.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wtf these chapters are getting so long??? *smacks myself* control yourself, you lil bitch
> 
> SMMMUTTTTT (and sappy feelings but that's no surprise)

Fujioka was there when Sousuke woke up. And Makoto wasn’t. 

It was a very unfortunate turn of events. 

The spot in bed next to Sousuke was still warm, though, so it couldn’t have been long since Makoto left. Warm sunlight filtered through the blinds and laid across the teal blankets in neat, slender rows, warming Sousuke’s legs underneath. At the absence of Makoto, he’d cast his long limbs in every possible direction while asleep, lying out sprawled like a starfish. He groaned and cracked one eye open, huffing against the pillow. Fujioka sat slumped on the bed opposite him, a crappy laptop snugly between his legs and one hand curled deep in his white-blonde curls. The scruff coating his jaw shone golden in the morning light. For once, he didn’t look completely wasted. 

“Morning,” he grunted, when he caught Sousuke staring. 

“Hey. Where’s Makoto?”

“He told me to tell you he went jogging, or some shit. Said something about letting you sleep in as a sort of ‘thank you.’ I don’t know what he meant by that, but he said you’d get it.” Fujioka shrugged, not looking up from the screen of his laptop. “He also kissed your face, like, a bajillion times. It was really gay.” 

“Hm.” Sousuke lifted one hand to touch his cheek, imagining the warmth of Makoto’s lips there. He almost wished Makoto had woken him up before leaving, so Sousuke could return the kisses and possibly make him stay and spend the morning in bed. The expanse of the mattress felt empty without Makoto’s body next to him. Like Makoto’s warmth just naturally belonged there in the mornings, to welcome Sousuke into consciousness with soft sighs and the sleepy touching of lips. He wondered what it would take to convince Makoto to stay in his dorm for good. And how much of his soul he’d have to give to Tanaka to take Fujioka.

“He really likes you, man,” Fujioka said absently. He reached for a half-opened chocolate bar and took a crocodile-worthy bite out of it. “Like, to a stupid amount. He kept looking at you like you’re some sort of fucking gift to humanity. I always thought he had natural bedroom-eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, I thought he’d bang you right then and there. Asleep, or otherwise.” 

Sousuke snorted. He couldn’t help a smile, his mind working too sluggishly to be annoyed. “Natural bedroom-eyes?” 

“Yeah. Like, you know how some people just have this way about them that screams ‘fuck me?’” Fujioka asked, sticking his pinky in his ear and wriggling it. “Like everything about them is just begging to be screwed good against a wall? He’s got that feel about him. All flushy-faced and smiley and goo-goo eyed. He either wants to hold your hand for eternity, or he wants to scream your name into the next millennia. There is no inbetween.” Pouting, he withdrew his finger and studied it. “I’ve dated some girls like that. Best sex I’ve ever had.” 

“So, you’re saying he’s a girl.” 

“No, no. I just mean he’s got this… way about him, that makes people want to shove him against a wall and dive for his crotch.” 

Sousuke groaned. “What the fuck is wrong with you.” 

“Don’t get me started, man,” Fujioka replied simply. He looked back to his laptop and gave a heavy sigh. “Damn, I haven’t screwed a chick like that in a while. Maybe I worked my way through the good ones early, and I’m stuck with the other ones til we graduate.” 

“Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sousuke growled, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “The longer I talk to you, the more I’m convinced you have the mental capacity of a horny gerbil.” 

Fujioka cackled. “That’s pretty funny.” 

“If you’re so unsatisfied with girls, why not try guys?” Sousuke asked, stretching his legs out and arching his back. He yawned, but it more like the lazy drawl of a lion than a human sound. “Dicks are pretty cool, if you work ‘em right.” 

Fujioka pulled a face. “Nah, man. I’ll take boobs over pecs any day. Besides, I don’t really trust your judgement, considering you’ve only been with one guy since the year started, and you two haven’t even slept together.” 

Sousuke lifted his arm from his eyes and shot him a glare. “You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do. If you two were sleeping together, then I wouldn’t get fucking complaints from our neighbors about your masturbating noises,” Fujioka said simply. “The guys to our left say you sound like a lonely dog crying for its owner. While simultaneously bouncing on a very springy mattress.” 

Sousuke winced, heat immediately blooming in his face. He thought he’d been pretty good about being quiet. On the rare nights that Makoto wasn’t staying over, he’d… taken advantage of the alone time, to put it delicately. He was only human, after all. And not just any human: a nearly twenty year old guy in college with a hot boyfriend whose mere existence was arousing.

His scowl deepened and he turned on his side so his back was to Fujioka. “Shut up.” 

“Hey, man. I’m not one to judge. So what if you and Tachibana haven’t fucked? It’s none of my business. Hell, beat your junk all you want, as long as you work out some way to be quiet about it. These walls are paper-thin, and I think people are getting tired of just cranking their music up louder.”

“Keep talking, and I might legitimately murder you,” Sousuke snarled into his pillow. 

Fujioka disregarded him and continued. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe it’s better that you guys haven’t slept together. Tachibana doesn’t strike me as somebody who’s quiet, and you’re sure as hell not, so the combined power of both of your sexual whimpering could possibly bring the entire building to the ground. For the sake of everyone’s safety, you two should probably stick to being one of those… chaste couples.” 

“That’s it. I’m throwing you out the window,” Sousuke said, kicking the blankets off and sitting up. He lazily got to his feet and reached out to grab for Fujioka’s blonde curls, and Fujioka yelped and scrambled away, holding his laptop to his chest. With a straight face, Sousuke snagged the elastic of his sweatpants and heaved him back, wrapping a merciless arm around his scrawny waist. He lifted Fujioka up and stalked idly to the window. Fujioka shrieked and struggled madly. Sousuke snorted. The guy weighed as much as a fruit roll-up. 

“Dude, dude, stop! I was just kidding!” he cried, flapping his legs and nearly clocking Sousuke in the face. He let out a pitiful whimper as Sousuke slid the window open and peered out. “C’mon man, stop messing with me! Yamazaki! You’re not actually- WAITWAITWAITWAITSTOP!” 

Sousuke couldn’t help but smirk as he taunted Fujioka’s legs out the window, his bare, pale feet batting at the open air as he struggled and whined. Fujioka’s arms locked around his waist from behind and gripped him hard. 

“C’mon man! C’mon, stop! Stop, I get it, I get it!” he begged. “Please put me down! I promise I’ll never tease you guys again! I’ll be good, I swear! J-JUST PLEASE DON’T THROW ME!” 

Sousuke rolled his eyes and scoffed. He eased Fujioka back into the safety for the dorm and threw him onto the mattress of his bed. Fujioka bounced and writhed into a sitting position, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. Sousuke closed the window again and smirked, wiping his hands off on his sweatpants. He jabbed a finger in Fujioka’s face.

“You’re lucky I’m nice,” he said.

Fujioka spluttered. “Nice!?” 

“That’s right. Any other sane person would’ve stabbed you in your sleep by now. You should be thanking me, for being such a just and patient soul.” 

“You’re nuts, man,” Fujioka said, letting out a bitter burst of laughter. “I have half a mind to tell Tachibana that you nearly killed me.” 

“Nah, I’d hate to disappoint him with ‘nearly’s,’” Sousuke said. He plopped down on his bed again and stretched out across it. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll arrange for him to bring popcorn next time.” 

Fujioka scowled. “I sorta fucking hate you, Yamazaki.” 

“Trust me, the feelings are mutual.” 

 

\---000---

 

The day passed slowly. After threatening Fujioka’s life a couple more times, Sousuke managed to get up to shave and put some decent clothes on. He cast his reflection one last bored look in the mirror, fluffed his hair up, and left the dorm to hurry to his classes.

It was decently warm outside, but Sousuke could feel the pale August air cooling bit by bit. The sweltering weight of the sun above was still as merciless as ever during the times he was out on campus, moving from one class to another, but it was always accompanied by a pleasantly cool breeze that ruffled his hair even more. With every string of wind he lifted a hand self-consciously to his head, scowling at the sensation of his hair being tugged. He really needed to get a haircut. If this kept up, he’d have hair as long as Makoto’s by the time winter break rolled around. And there was no way he was allowing that. His thick eyebrows and natural scowl were bad enough. He didn’t need a dark mess around his angular face to turn him into a growly grizzly bear.

The day dragged, and Sousuke forced himself to pay attention to the drone of professors and presentations. He’d learned too many times already that letting his attention slip in the slightest would earn him disgruntled, superior looks and a flurry of red marks and scratches on his papers. At this point, Sousuke was driven less by fear of the future to get good marks, and more by pride or spite. Makoto would probably punch his shoulder and roll his eyes if he admitted it outloud, but there was definitely something fulfilling about seeing envy and hesitant admiration in the faces of the people around him. Including his professors. Sousuke didn’t have much, but he did have the ability to plant seeds of jealousy into the shrivelled hearts of his classmates. 

Maybe Makoto hadn’t rubbed off on him as much as he thought. 

“Not bad, Yamazaki,” an pleased voice said in one of his last classes, and Sousuke looked up to see his professor in Corporate Finance hold a stapled bunch of papers out for him to take. She offered him a small smile. “Keep it up with scores like these, and you can expect a good recommendation letter down the road.” 

Sousuke swallowed and quickly covered the (utterly horrible,) doodle he’d been working on with his hand. He took the paper gently from her and gave a tiny nod. “Thank you, professor.”

“If you’re finished with your notes, you may be excused,” she said, giving a short nod and moving on to the next table. Relaxing at her absence, Sousuke straightened and shoved his things rather unceremoniously into his bag. He stood and followed the line of exiting students down the row behind the desks, and out the door, into the bustling tiled hallway. 

Sighing, Sousuke checked his watch and shifted the weight of his bag in a more comfortable arrangement on his shoulder. Corporate Finance had been his last class for the day, but his skin still prickled with the uncomfortable feeling of being late to something. He didn’t have anything else, as far as he was aware. He winced, wondering if spending the rest of the afternoon in his dorm with an ipod, earbuds, and a bag of doritos was too good to be true. Common sense told him to go to the university library to get some more studying in, but he honestly was so tired of skimming through neat lines of text that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d start on that Socialism essay tomorrow. 

He drifted through the halls and out through the main entrance of his often-frequented building of classes, his feet taking him blindly to the large expanse of green snuggled between the dorms further down. A breeze caught the strings of his hoodie and blew them wildly around his head. He adjusted his grip on his bag and allowed the wind to push him into a faster pace. Stray flecks of water touched his cheek as he passed the marble fountain at the heart of the campus, and he barely managed to avoid a girl on a skateboard that was cruising around it at an alarming pace. A couple squirrels tittered excitedly in the tree over his head, and Sousuke couldn’t help but look forward to winter, when the little rodents would retire for hibernation. The squirrels on campus were rather… infamous, for their tendency to snatch food right out of the hands of unsuspecting students. Many a chip had been plucked from Sousuke’s own fingers. 

He smiled a little to himself, recalling a summer afternoon spent with Makoto underneath an oak tree, snacking on a salted bag of cashews. They’d been trying to catch the nuts in their mouths when the other threw them. A horribly chubby squirrel had approached them. Sousuke had attempted to shoo it away with his foot, but it remained stubborn, its beady little eyes hooked on the bag of cashews. All too aware of Makoto’s fond gaze, Sousuke had grudgingly held out a cashew for the squirrel to take. Like some sort of disney princess, or whatever. The squirrel had snatched it up, shoved it into one of its cheeks, and promptly leaped right into Sousuke’s lap. Sousuke had, (as anyone would have,) screeched and writhed as the squirrel shimmied up his chest with sharp little claws and jumped onto the tree trunk he was leaning against. It disappeared into the leaves, and Sousuke had been left with a flushed face, an embarrassed scowl, and a very amused Makoto who wouldn’t stop laughing for the next five consecutive minutes. 

A couple giggling girls held the dorm building door open for him when he approached, and Sousuke offered them a nod of thanks before slipping inside. He instinctively went for the stairs and took them two at a time, up to his floor. The halls were busy today. Somebody had dropped an entire tray of full coffee mugs on the carpet, and a hive of people clustered around the mess with napkins, taking up the majority of the slender space. Sousuke barely managed to squeeze past them. Them, and the two girls that were having a very screechy argument just outside his dorm. He decided not to dwell on the guys a little further down who were racing hamster toys up and down the corridor and slipped into the safety of his room. The door clicked shut, and he sighed in relief at the sudden, fragile quiet. 

“Oh. You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be,” a familiar voice said. Sousuke glanced over at his dresser to see Makoto standing in front of it in nothing but a pair of well-worn briefs and glasses, a folded t-shirt pinched between his fingers. 

“Um.” Sousuke swallowed. His eyes immediately fell to Makoto’s ass, his insides squirming with pleasure at the… enjoyable view. Makoto caught his gaze and smiled softly. 

“Sorry. I’m going through your stuff and separating my clothes from yours, and I more or less ended up taking your sweatpants and shirt off. I must’ve slept in them last night.” 

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Sousuke said. He regained himself quickly and flashed Makoto a smile. He dropped his bag and moved to embrace him from behind, wrapping his arms around Makoto’s narrow hips. “You look nice without clothes on.” 

“How sweet of you,” Makoto said, rolling his eyes. He folded the shirt in his hands and threw it to Sousuke’s bed, where a small collection of clothing was laid out. “Honestly, we need to figure out some sort of system. I can’t keep wearing your clothes everywhere.” 

“Why not?” Sousuke hummed and pressed a small kiss to Makoto’s neck. “I don’t mind.” 

“You may not, but Haru certainly does,” Makoto said, giving a soft, amused puff. He reached for another shirt with a pug face on the front: definitely not Sousuke’s. “He knows all of my clothes by heart, and he gets this funny look about it when he sees me wearing your stuff. And I’d feel bad if I accidentally stained one of your things. I get everything dirty, and you have to do enough laundry as it is.” 

“All of my stuff is dark, so it’s not like anyone can tell,” Sousuke said. He closed his eyes, his lips fleeting across the soft skin of Makoto’s throat. “Besides, you look good in black.”

Makoto tilted his head back to give Sousuke more room. “You think?” 

“Mm-hm. It makes those eyes of yours brighter.” 

Makoto gave a light laugh, and Sousuke felt his skin warm with a blush. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I thought we’d established that a long time ago.” 

“We have, but sometimes you still manage to surprise me. You out-cheese yourself,” Makoto said. He threw the folded shirt onto the bed and twisted in Sousuke’s arms, lifting his hands to cup Sousuke’s face. Sousuke closed his eyes and hummed pleasantly as he massaged his cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“It can only get worse from here,” he murmured. 

“That, unfortunately, is probably true,” Makoto agreed, faking a disappointed expression at him. “I sacrifice a life free of cheesiness by dating you.” 

“You love it,” he said. He leaned forward to press their lips together chastely, allowing one hand to drift from Makoto’s hip to his ass. Makoto purred against his mouth. His hands left Sousuke’s face to curl in his hair, tugging gently and causing Sousuke’s scalp to pleasantly tingle. 

“Mmm. Do that harder,” Sousuke said. Makoto pulled away just enough to give him a weird look, and Sousuke huffed. “My hair. Pull it harder.” 

Makoto blinked. “You want me to…?” 

“Just. Pull my hair when we kiss. I like how it feels,” Sousuke said, a touch of pink coming to his face. Makoto inspected him blankly for a moment, before giving a little chuckle and curling his fingers deeper into Sousuke’s hair. Sousuke inhaled sharply and allowed his eyelashes to flutter shut. “Yeah. Just like that.” 

“...Why?” 

“I don’t know. It feels nice.” Sousuke opened one eye and scowled. “Are you judging me, Tachibana?” 

Makoto pulled a pout, faking seriousness. “I would never.” 

“You are. You’re judging me.” 

“No, I’m not. Really,” Makoto said, the pout dissolving into a smile. “I get it.” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “You like having your hair pulled?” 

“Well… Not exactly. You never really pull my hair, so I don’t really know.” Makoto shrugged. His cheeks took on a dusky shade of pink. “But I like it when you, erm, grab my butt, and stuff. It’s kinda the same, isn’t it?” 

“...I guess.” Sousuke frowned thoughtfully. He hesitated, before lifting his hands to Makoto’s hair and curling his fingers through the thick, soft strands. “Kiss me again.”

Makoto tentatively complied, leaning forward to fit their mouths gently back together. They fell into a familiar, soft kiss, limited to the brushing of lips, and Sousuke tugged Makoto’s hair gently but firmly. He tried to mimic what Makoto did when the roles were switched, but it was surprisingly difficult to tighten, loosen, and adjust his grip without focusing excessively on doing so. Makoto’s hair was also longer and thinner, and Sousuke actually found himself struggling to get a good grip on it.

“How was that?” he asked when they pulled away, wincing. “I can’t really do you justice, because you do it a certain way, but…” 

Makoto blinked at him, his eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t really know. It just feels like you’ve got your fingers in my hair. Am I… supposed to feel something else?”

“When you do it, it makes my scalp tingle and sting a little. It kind of hurts, but in a nice way.”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “I-it hurts?” 

“In a good way,” Sousuke insisted. “Trust me, if it wasn’t pleasant, I’d tell you.” 

“I… never thought it hurt,” Makoto said, flushing and looking down. “You always seem so pleased when I kinda tug at it, and I like how your hair feels, so I never really considered…” 

“Makoto. I like it. It’s okay.” 

Makoto gave him a concerned look. “But if it hurts, then why do you like it?” 

“Because it’s a good hurt,” Sousuke said. He couldn’t help smiling a little at Makoto’s familiar, motherly concern. “It’s like… getting an itch I didn’t know I had. It kinda wakes me up a little, I guess. And it’s you, so it’s nice.” 

Makoto blinked at him, before cracking a small smile and allowing a little laugh to tumble from his lips. “You’re so weird, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke just rolled his eyes and kissed him again, his hands falling from Makoto’s hair and settling again on his bare waist. Makoto smiled against his mouth and curled his fingers in his hair again, and the pleasant feeling returned under the pressure of his little tugs. Humming, Sousuke teased the elastic of Makoto’s briefs. He rubbed the hot skin underneath with the pads of his thumbs, delighting at the gradual curve of Makoto’s narrow hips. Makoto pressed closer against him, his bare chest supplying a delicious warmth against Sousuke’s heart. He let out a pleased purr as Sousuke cupped his ass. The sound went right to Sousuke’s crotch. He huffed and held Makoto tighter, and Makoto purred again, his voice curling with a shiver. A soft, muscled thigh lifted to force Sousuke’s legs a tad apart. It brushed his crotch through the fabric of his jeans, and a traitorously excited moan fell from Sousuke’s lips before he could stop it. Snarling, he nipped at Makoto’s bottom lip, tilting his head to glide his teeth across the tender skin there. 

Something metallic-tasting suddenly touched his tongue, and Makoto jerked away with a pained yelp, his leg falling from between Sousuke’s. He blinked in surprise, his green eyes wide, as pearls of blood began to blossom from a neat cut on his bottom lip, right where Sousuke had nipped at him. Sousuke’s entire body stiffened with horror. 

“Holy shit,” he said. “Did… did I do that?” 

Makoto gulped. His tongue flicked out to catch the beads of blood before they could spill. “No, no. I’ve been biting my lip all day, so it was already really tender. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“It looks bad,” Sousuke said, frowning. He lifted a hand to brush his thumb against Makoto’s swollen, sliced lip, but Makoto jerked away before he could, smiling nervously. 

“It’s really okay. My lips always bleed in the fall. You know. When the air gets colder. No big deal.” 

“Here.” Sousuke stepped back and moved to his desk, before leaning forward and snatching a couple tissues from the box he kept there. He held them out. Makoto took them delicately, inspected them for a moment, and pressed them to his lip. He winced at the contact, but held them there, his shoulders drooping a little. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. Sousuke gave an awkward nod and remained silent. He watched with furrowed eyebrows as Makoto dabbed at his lip, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the uncomfortable silence. Makoto avoided his gaze and looked at the ground. He seemed to suddenly be very aware of his state of dress. The hand not holding the tissues to his lip tugged self-consciously at his briefs, even though Sousuke had seen him in his underwear a hundred times before. 

The longer Sousuke looked at it, the more he was convinced that Makoto’s lip wasn’t just bleeding because of the approach of autumn. There were little half-moon indents in the glossy, swollen skin, the obvious work of teeth gnawing worriedly over a matter of days. Sousuke remembered early that morning, during Makoto’s panic attack. His lip had bled then, too. If this was some sort of new habit to express anxiety, Sousuke did not like how severe it was getting at all. It wasn’t normal for a person to gnaw on their lip so much that it bled. It just… wasn’t. And that was concerning. 

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few more moments. 

Makoto blinked at him, before laughing softly. “Yeah. It’s just a split lip. I think I can handle it.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Sousuke said. He gave him a look. “How are you doing? You left this morning without saying anything about-” 

“My panic attack,” Makoto finished for him. His smile fell. He looked away and tugged at the hem of his briefs, his cheeks flushing. “I’m… okay.” 

Sousuke folded his arms over his chest. “Really.” 

Makoto flinched at his tone. He let out a shuddering sigh and moved to sit on Fujioka’s bed, rubbing his free hand absently up and down his thigh, as if trying to comfort himself. “I don’t know. I just… I cant stop thinking about it, you know? I miss them so much, and all I want to do is call them, but then I start thinking about the way my parents…” He trailed off and gave an annoyed huff. “I just wish I hadn’t said anything at all. I know that’s stupid of me to say, but I can’t help but think it. If I hadn’t said anything, then I’d still be able to talk to my parents and to Ran and Ren without feeling like I’ve done something wrong. And I wouldn’t be so nervous all the time around people, and I’d actually be able to concentrate on something for more than an hour without feeling like I’m going to get brutally stabbed in the back.” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s so exhausting. I need to stop thinking about it, but I can’t. And if I do manage to think about something else, then I just get even more stressed, because I realize that the rest of my life is stressful, too. I’ve never felt so drained by life, before.” 

“You don’t need to stop thinking about it,” Sousuke said. He padded over and knelt inbetween Makoto’s legs, resting his hands on his bare knees and looking insistently up at him. “You just need to call them. You need to stop this, because it’s eating you from the inside out.” 

Makoto looked away. “I know. Gods, I know.” 

“You’ve waited long enough. It might be intimidating, but you need to make them understand.” 

“How can I make them do anything?” Makoto asked, his voice suddenly hard. He brought his eyebrows together and curled his lips into a concerned line. When he pursed them out again, his upper lip was scarlet from pressing against the scratch. “They made it pretty obvious that they don’t want to hear about it.” 

“Well, you’re their son. They should want to hear what you have to say about it.” 

“But they don’t.” 

“Then they’re assholes,” Sousuke said, huffing. “But you have to try, if you want to get anywhere. If you keep telling yourself that they’re not going to listen, then they never will. Makoto, if you really want your parents to be okay with you being pansexual, then you have to push for them to pay attention to this part of you. They’re not just going to magically be okay with it. You need to do something.” 

“I never said they’re going to magically be okay with it,” Makoto said. His green eyes sharpened with annoyance. “It’s not like I think they’re just going to wake up one day and decide that it’s perfectly fine that I’m not straight. But if I push them, and things go wrong... “ He shook his head and sighed. “I need them, Sousuke. I need them, and I need Ran and Ren. I can’t stand thinking about a life with them not in it. Wouldn't it just be easier, to let them pretend like I hadn’t said anything? Wouldn’t that make it all less risky?” 

Sousuke gave him an incredulous look. “No. No, of course not. You’re literally having panic attacks over this and getting anxiety, and you think letting it be will make it easier? Makoto, I hate to break it to you, but you can’t stay like this. You can’t keep smiling for everyone else’s sake.” 

“Why not?” Makoto demanded, his voice hitching. “It’s… what I’m good at.” 

“But it’s not healthy,” Sousuke insisted. “And it’s not genuine.” 

“When has being genuine ever mattered to anyone?”

Sousuke glowered. “It matters to me, and it should matter to your parents.” 

“Well, they sure as hell don’t act like it,” Makoto said, glaring down at his hands. Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never seen him look so frustrated. “If it doesn’t matter to them, then what’s the point?”

“Your happiness is the point,” Sousuke said. He leaned forward and forced their gazes to meet, his hands coming up to hold Makoto’s. His voice hardened. “And if they really care about you, then that should be enough to make them listen. What are you going to do, if you try to sweep this under the carpet and they find out you’re dating a man? They will, eventually. And I’d rather not have their first impression of me be the guy who their son has been keeping a secret, because he’s too afraid of strapping on a pair and being assertive.” 

That struck a nerve. Makoto met his gaze in a roaring storm of green, his jaw set and his hands tensed in Sousuke’s. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t necessarily need to. Sousuke had known Makoto long enough to understand that he did not take people addressing his fears with blunt determination lightly. He’d always been closed off about himself, hiding his weaknesses with a locked smile and undeniable cheer, so being called out about them immediately put him on edge. Makoto’s desire to be the perfect friend, older brother, and son meant that the things that made him flawed were guarded with the ferocity of a lion, despite his kitten-like appearance. As far as Makoto was concerned, his ability to push away his own weaknesses to put his attention on others was all that he had, so forcing him to focus on them was not something Sousuke would recommend to most anybody else. Unless they wanted an emerald look that could decapitate, of course. 

They glared at each other for moment, and Sousuke forced himself to meet Makoto’s gaze steadily. Makoto’s summer-green eyes, narrowed with irritation, seemed to study his face for an eternity, before a short sigh left his lips and he leaned back, cutting off their staring contest. His expression softened into one of exhaustion. 

“You’re right,” he whispered. He ran a hand through his hair, slicking it out of his face. It stuck up in awkward, adorable tufts. “Shit.” 

Sousuke felt his tensed muscles loosen. He didn’t reply, but trailed the pads of his fingers along Makoto’s thighs, his touch hovering over the little birthmarks that dotted his caramel skin. He bent down and pressed a kiss to one near the hem of Makoto’s briefs, in hopes of easing the sting of his words. It must’ve worked, because Makoto touched his cheek with his fingers lightly and reverently. 

“I can’t help it,” he murmured after a moment. “I can’t help being afraid. Not just of pushing them to understand, but of what comes after. I’m so afraid that this anxiety isn’t going to go away, even if we do sort this out. I’m so afraid of being this nervous all the time. Maybe… Maybe I think that if I hide from it, I’ll gradually stop feeling like this. I’ll stop chewing on my lip until it bleeds, and I’ll stop caring so much about what other people think. Maybe part of me thinks that I can prove that I’m strong if I pretend for long enough. It sounds so stupid, but maybe…” 

“That is stupid,” Sousuke said. He pressed a kiss to another birthmark, his hands moving up the sides of Makoto’s legs to his hips. He tilted his head to touch his lips to another one on the inside of his thigh, and Makoto shivered. “You’re not strong for hiding.” 

“I know.” Makoto let out a bitter little laugh. “But it makes more sense in my head.” 

“Well, don’t listen to your head,” Sousuke said simply. “Your head is stupid.” He caught himself and winced. “That came out a lot ruder than I anticipated.” 

Makoto laughed. “Since when do you care about whether or not you’re rude?” 

“Since I met you, dumbass,” Sousuke replied. He placed one last kiss to a birthmark, and straightened, coming to sit on the bed beside Makoto. They instinctively leaned into each other, their lips brushing. Sousuke resisted the urge to wince at the heat coming off of Makoto’s swollen lip. “Don’t be afraid. Okay? It’s stupid to be afraid.” 

“I can’t help it.” 

“Well, learn how to help it. I don’t like seeing you like this.” 

Makoto’s eyes softened. “I don’t like you seeing me like this, either. I don’t like disappointing you.” 

“I’m not disappointed in you. I’m just…” Sousuke trailed off. He felt his face flush and looked away, scowling. 

Makoto smiled. “...Worried?” 

“If that’s what you want to call it.” 

Makoto laughed. He pressed a kiss to Sousuke’s jaw. “Why are you so cute?” 

“I’m not cute,” Sousuke growled, grudgingly tilting his head to the side to allow Makoto’s lips to dwindle down to his throat. 

“Thanks for being my voice of reason.” 

“It would bug me if I didn’t try to straighten you out.” 

Makoto chuckled. “Well, I’m grateful. I like you a lot, you know.”

“I like you, too.”

“Don’t hesitate to talk to me, too. I want to be there for you, like you have for me.” 

Sousuke smirked. “Right. You can start by doing all of my homework.”

Makoto hummed in amusement against his skin. His fingers teased the hem of Sousuke’s shirt, and Sousuke couldn’t help swallowing hard as they slipped underneath, brushing his lower abdomen and the line of hair below his navel. 

“You haven’t shaved,” Makoto commented softly, around open-mouthed kisses to Sousuke’s neck. He dragged his teeth along Sousuke’s pulse as his thumb rubbed the thick hair peeking out of Sousuke’s jeans. Sousuke let out a ragged sigh. 

“Well, I don’t really need to, do I? I haven’t swam in a while,” he said. He bit back a purr of bliss as Makoto lifted his shirt up, his hand wandering up his chest and pulling the fabric with it. “Why? Do you not like it?” 

“No, I like it. It’s soft,” Makoto said. “It’s different for me. I always have to shave, or the swim coach yells at me for being ‘inappropriate’ and ‘unprofessional.’ He makes me shave everything.” 

Sousuke snorted. He closed his eyes and melted into Makoto’s touch, as Makoto continued covering his neck with wet kisses. “I probably have enough hair for the both of us.” 

Makoto chuckled. He tore his mouth away from Sousuke’s neck and slipped off the bed, before wriggling over to kneel inbetween his legs. 

“....What are you doing?” Sousuke muttered. He instinctively spread his legs to give Makoto more space, and winced. Makoto took the opportunity to scoot closer, his hands resting on either side of Sousuke’s pelvis. He didn’t meet Sousuke’s eyes, and instead studied his jean-clad crotch with a sleep expression. 

“I want to try something,” he said simply. With deft fingers he worked on the button of Sousuke’s jeans, before it popped open, allowing him to pull down the zipper at a tantalizingly slow pace. A whimper escaped Sousuke’s lips before he could stop it.

“M-Makoto. Seriously. What are you doing?” 

“I want to try giving you a blowjob,” Makoto said, as if he were offering to send Sousuke a link to a review guide. “I… I want to be in control of something. I want to distract myself, and I want to make you feel good. I probably won’t be very good at it, but I’ve wanted to try for a while, so...” He paused and looked up, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly. His cheeks flushed. Sousuke realized with a jolt and an immediate heat in his crotch that Makoto’s hair was still slicked back in that disgustingly adorable way. “That okay?” 

“Fuck,” Sousuke hissed. His heart immediately started to pound, and he swallowed hard. It felt like gulping sand. “Yes. Holy fuck, yes. By all means. Yes.” 

Makoto blinked at him, his smile slipping for a moment in surprise at Sousuke’s enthusiastic response, before laughing lightly and flushing a brighter pink. A genuine laugh. A familiar laugh. “I’m glad. Don’t make fun of me if I mess it up, okay?” 

Sousuke swallowed again, a hopeless smile tugging at his lips. “I make no such promises.” 

“Mean,” Makoto said, pulling an exaggerated pout. He turned his attention back on Sousuke’s pants, his dark eyelashes lowered and his fingers careful. Slowly, he tugged the jeans down by the belt loops, and Sousuke shuddered as the cool air of the dorm’s air conditioning system touched his legs. The pants were pushed all the way down to his ankles and yanked off entirely, leaving him in a jacket, a ratty t-shirt, and a pair of dark briefs that were already beginning to strain with an erection. Sousuke shifted on the bed, his skin itching with anticipation as Makoto shifted forward. His glossy, dark lips slid briefly over the inside of Sousuke’s thigh, leaving a trail of boiling heat in their wake. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the skin just below the hem of Sousuke’s underwear. Sousuke bit back an anxious moan. 

“Do you want to take them off, or should I?” Makoto asked against his skin, his eyes still blissfully shut and his lips grazing Sousuke’s thigh. 

“Whatever the fuck you want, Makoto.” 

Makoto smiled. “I’ll take them off, then.”

He tugged at the hem, and Sousuke let out a shattered puff as his briefs slid slowly down his legs, the elastic pressing uncomfortably against his semi-hard cock for a moment. Makoto pursed his lips and tilted his head, letting the underwear rest just out of the way. He scooted closer and inspected Sousuke’s bare crotch, as if it were an especially well-wrapped present under a Christmas tree. Sousuke swallowed, scowling in annoyance as he felt heat rise to his face.

“Can I touch you?” Makoto asked, meeting his gaze. His own cheeks were flushed, but he didn’t seem that bothered by it. Then again, Makoto blushed so much already that he was probably used to it. 

“If you’d like,” Sousuke said, incredibly pleased when he heard his low voice come out smooth and sultry. He spread his legs further. “I’m all yours.” 

Makoto’s smile grew, creating dimples in his cheeks. The dimples that only appeared when he smiled the most genuine of smiles. He tilted his head and regarded Sousuke with lowered eyelashes, scarlet brushed across the bridge of his nose. “Mmm. All mine.” 

Well, fuck. 

Before Sousuke could even begin to stumble through an analysis of whatever the hell Makoto intended by saying it that way, Makoto had already gently taken his cock in his hand. Immediate shivers of pleasure went up Sousuke’s spine, and he groaned, the blanket bunching between his fists. He closed his eyes tight and swallowed as Makoto began to gently stroke him, his fingers starting at the tip and making their way down to brush the base. Sousuke nearly choked on his own breath. 

“Holy shit, Makoto,” he breathed. 

“Does that feel good?” 

“Yes. Holy fucking shit. Please do that again.” 

Makoto didn’t reply, but obeyed with a soft chuckle, stroking him a couple more times with feather-light fingers. Sousuke resisted the urge to buck into his hand. He settled with a deep snarl in the back of his throat. He barely had a chance to open his eyes before wet lips closed around him, a soft tongue acting as a sort of cushion for the weight of his erection. A hopelessly loud moan wrenched itself from his lungs before he could stop it. Makoto pulled away, his lips leaving with a slight popping noise. He stroked Sousuke’s cock with fingers that were much too teasing and gentle for their own good. 

“You’re so warm,” he mused, rubbing his thumb along the heated ridge of Sousuke’s dick. 

“Yeah, that sometimes happens when your boyfriend suddenly decides to jump you,” Sousuke said sarcastically, his breath quickening. 

Makoto smiled innocently. “You sound like you feel violated.” 

“Not violated. Just… impatient. If you’re going to jump me, then don’t leave as soon as you’ve arrived.” 

“Mmm,” Makoto hummed, wrapping his hand around him and tugging a little. Sousuke bit back a whimper as soft lips caressed the tip. When Makoto spoke, his voice was low and raspy. “So you want me to continue?” 

“Please,” Sousuke said, practically pleading. He shifted his hips up into Makoto’s touch, his stomach twisting in anticipation. Makoto nearly beamed at his excitement, as if Sousuke had just given him a box of chocolates by merely being interested. He stroked his dick with firmer fingers, sharp, delicious heat left in the their wake. A couple more kisses were pressed to the tip, and Sousuke sighed, arching his back slightly. Makoto brought him to his mouth again, and it took every fiber of Sousuke’s being not to jerk his hips forward at the feeling of his those wet, soft lips pursing around his hard erection. He let his head droop back and moaned softly. One hand subconsciously lifted to curl its fingers in Makoto’s hair, pushing his bangs away from his face. Makoto glanced up at him with a sleepy, apple-green gaze, hooded by dark eyelashes. He swirled his tongue over the head in his mouth. Sousuke was pretty sure he saw stars. 

“Sweet,” Makoto mused when he pulled away again. He tilted his head to press open-mouthed kisses to the side of his dick, his eyelashes fluttering shut and his tongue flicking against the taut, heated skin. The hand holding him twisted slightly but firmly, and Sousuke couldn’t help but dissolve into another series of little moans and grunts. Their gazes collided as Makoto parted his lips and dragged his tongue along the curve of his cock, his ivory teeth flashing dangerously. He brought Sousuke back into his mouth and dipped his head with the movement of taking him deeper. Sousuke gripped the blankets so hard that his knuckles turned to the color of polished marble. 

“Holy fuck,” he hissed. The hand not holding onto the blanket for dear life curled deeper in Makoto’s hair as he let out a strangled groan. “How are you…?” 

Makoto didn’t reply. (It wasn’t like Sousuke had expected him to, or anything.) The corners of his mouth curled in the slightest as he rolled his tongue over the head, tilting his head to get a better angle. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Sousuke's length in a tight ring and slowly moved them up and down. 

“A-ahh…” Sousuke groaned. He clamped his teeth together to stop another string of unfortunately loud noises. Makoto slowly slid his lips further down and sucked, moving his fingers as if they were an extension of his mouth. He moaned around Sousuke’s dick, the vibration of his throat pulsing through Sousuke’s body, and it took every fiber of Sousuke’s being not to throw back his head and howl. 

“Damn it, Mako,” he managed. Makoto chuckled, (which was a whole new series of delicious vibrations itself,) and began to ever so slightly bob his head, his lips pursing firmly and adding a wonderfully new pressure. Sousuke swallowed a whimper and rocked his hips gently with his movement, feeling his face flush with the thump of his heart in his cheeks. 

“You’re holding back,” Makoto whispered, pulling his mouth back with a smacking sound. He wrapped his other hand around his fingers and tugged gently and rhythmically. His lips touched the tip of Sousuke’s dick, his tongue flicking out to press against it. He smiled a cheshire grin and purred. “Let me hear you, Sou.”

“W-we have neighbors,” Sousuke said, swallowing. He winced. “Apparently I’m already loud enough as it is, so I doubt anyone would be appreciative…” 

Makoto lifted his eyebrows. He tugged harder, the pads of his fingers massaging Sousuke’s hardness with fantastic vigor and forcing a traitorous moan from Sousuke’s mouth. “Loud enough as it is? And what do you mean by that, Sou?” 

“Makoto, please don’t,” Sousuke pleaded, closing his eyes tight. He rocked his hips again in a demand for them to move along. “You’ve already got my wrapped around your little finger. What more do you want from m-a-ahh!” His own moan of pleasure cut him off as Makoto took him in again, lips pursed and tongue tensed to press his dick against the roof of his mouth. Sousuke snarled, his chest heaving. They fell into another rhythm of rocking against one another. Vicious, wonderful heat swirled in Sousuke’s abdomen at the warm, tight feeling of Makoto’s wet lips and tongue. He let his head droop back and sighed, his hips rolling instinctively with the rise and fall of Makoto’s mouth. Makoto was beginning to make those cute little puppy-huffing sounds he did, and Sousuke was vaguely aware through fluttering eyelashes and explosions of heat that he was reaching into his briefs to stroke himself with a throaty hum. 

“M-Makoto…” Sousuke groaned. Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking shit. He could feel the climax coming. It swelled in him like the building wall of a hungry wave, and seeing Makoto touch and tug at himself in his dark briefs was not making any of this easier. A euphoric gasp from Makoto’s throat rippled through Sousuke and prompted a whimper in reply. How Makoto managed to please the both of them so effectively was really beyond him. 

He didn’t last much longer. All it took to send him over the edge was Makoto’s teeth gently touching his strained, flushed skin as he returned to the tip, his burning tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, and Sousuke was catapulted into a viciously wonderful sensation of total numbness. The world blushed white for a moment, and he let out a strangled moan, his eyes rolling back into his head and every muscle in his body going slack. Makoto lips clamped down around him as he came, his green gaze clashing with Sousuke’s as he swallowed, face flushed and his hair slicked back. It was easily the sexiest thing Sousuke had ever seen in his life. 

Or it would’ve been, if Makoto hadn’t then proceeded to pull back with a popping sound, his lips parted, and stroke and tug at himself in his briefs until his entire face went slack with his climax. It was the quietest reaction to an orgasm Sousuke had ever witnessed. A violent shiver passed through Makoto’s body, causing his lean muscles to ripple, and he doubled over, the only sound escaping his lips a distant whine. He rested his forehead against Sousuke’s thigh and panted. His voice was nothing more than the ghost of a whisper. 

“Holy fuck,” Sousuke managed, swallowing. “Did you…?” 

“Yeah,” Makoto said. He eased his hand out of his briefs and stared down at it, licking his dripping lips with a cherry-red tongue. “Hm.”

“Y-you swallowed,” Sousuke said, lacking anything better to say. 

“Yeah.” Makoto wrinkled his nose and met his gaze, his summer-green eyes sleepy. “It… doesn’t taste how I expected it to. I thought it would be sweeter.” 

Sousuke laughed weakly. “Did you expect it to taste like chocolate?” 

“No. But it’s a lot more bitter than I thought it would be.” He pouted, and his bangs flopped back into his face, as if collapsing after a marathon. “I don’t know if I like it, or not.” 

“You get used to it, I think,” Sousuke said. He groaned and let his head drop back. “Fuck. Was that seriously your first blowjob?” 

“Well, yeah. But I’ve wanted to try for a while, so I’ve kinda been doing some, erm…” Makoto flushed bright pink and grimaced. “Research, I guess…? Just like, looking up tips online, as stupid as that sounds. Like the thing I did with my fingers, where I made them into a ring, and stuff.” He smiled shyly. “I may or may not have planned to try today.” 

“Damn, Mako,” Sousuke breathed. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I am now, like, ninety percent sure that you’re secretly a soft-eyed sex god.” 

Makoto gave a legitimate, perfectly executed giggle that made every part of Sousuke’s body pulse with affection. “That’s a new one.” 

“An accurate one,” Sousuke added. He forced himself to lean forward and rest their foreheads together, still fighting a little to catch his breath. “You should’ve let me repay the favor.” 

“I got impatient. You have no idea how sexy you looked, and the sounds you were making…” Makoto closed his eyes and gave a low hum. “Next time, though.” 

Sousuke smiled. “Next time. I’ll get you back good, Tachibana.” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Makoto purred, his voice raspy and seductive. He tilted his face up to nip at Sousuke’s bottom lip, and Sousuke groaned. 

“You’re a minx.” 

“Tee hee.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing, friends, parents. :O 
> 
> UGH, I'm sorry for taking so long. My life has been so hectic, and a horrible case of writer's block hit me hard. But I DID IT. This chapter was oddly hard to write, but I'm hoping to get back in the groove of things by the next chapter. :3 (I also need to work on making these shorter, cause this is getting ridiculous...)

“You’re reaching too far,” Makoto said with a sigh, pressing harder on Sousuke’s shoulder blades. “Stop straining your shoulders and let your spine do the work. If you keep your arms too loose and your waist too tight, you’re going to lock up. Don’t clench.” 

“Don’t clench what?” Sousuke puffed, scowling at the ground between his spread legs. He tried to focus all his energy on his hips and lower back, instead of the biting pain in his arm as he hooked his toes with his fingers. “I’m not clenching anything.” 

“You’re clenching your butt,” Makoto replied. “That’s why your thighs are so stiff, and that’s why your waist isn’t twisting as much as it could. Relax.” 

Sousuke gave him a look over his shoulder. “You’re asking me to relax my ass, Tachibana?” 

Makoto flushed and glanced away. “Y-you know what I mean.” 

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I just wish the circumstances were a little more-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Makoto said, pressing against Sousuke’s back harder. Sousuke whimpered at the tight pressure around his lower spine. “Now. Relax your ass. You’re just hurting yourself more for being so stiff.” 

“I’m not clenching it.” 

“Yes, you are.”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe my ass is just naturally rock-hard?” 

“Sousuke, I’ve felt your ass. On many occasions. You’re clenching it.” 

“I’m. Not,” Sousuke hissed, just as Makoto added the weight of his knee to his back, forcing him further into the stretch. “H-hey! That hurts!” 

“That’s the feeling of you not relaxing your damn butt-cheeks, Sou,” Makoto replied, in a voice that was much too innocent for the situation. 

Sousuke glanced back at him with lifted eyebrows, his pain momentarily forgotten. “You just swore.” 

Makoto gave him a short nod, wearing his ‘disapproving mother’ expression. “That sometimes happens when your stubborn boyfriend is refusing to loosen up his gluteus maximus.” 

“You’re talking with Rin, too much,” Sousuke replied. He let out a determined sigh and focused on slowly unwinding the tension in his hips and ass. Sure enough, the ache in his lower back subsided, and he managed to curl his fingers entirely around his toes. “There. I loosened up my gluteus maximus.” 

“Now, was that so hard?”

“No... “ he growled, easing himself back into a comfortable sitting position. Makoto moved off of him and plopped down at his side, looking a little too smug for comfort. Sousuke gave him a smirk. “You really are an expert at relaxing my ass, Makoto. I’m lucky to have a boyfriend who’s so good at controlling my tight-” 

“I’m just going to stop you there,” Makoto said with an exaggerated sigh, despite the bright pink his face was quickly turning. He yawned and lifted his arms over his head, the black workout tank-top he wore outlining his toned chest. “Thanks for stretching with me before swimming. It’s been awhile since I’ve checked up on your morning and evening routines, but you don’t seem to be slacking.” 

“I never slack,” Sousuke replied. When Makoto turned to glance at the desk in the corner that overfilled with half-finished assignments, he gently pinched his chin and forced their gazes to remain focused on one another. “Don’t look over there. That’s my exception corner.” 

“A pretty crowded exception corner, don’t you think?” Makoto said, cocking an eyebrow. 

“It’ll get smaller. Progressively.” 

“Mm. If you say so,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss Sousuke’s slightly damp cheek. “You’ve been getting a lot of assignments, recently. Are you okay?” 

“I’m in college. I’m never okay.” 

“C’mon, be serious,” Makoto said. He sat back and brushed a stray strand of hair from Sousuke’s face, his fingers gentle and warm against Sousuke’s forehead. “Real talk. You’re okay? You’re not… I don’t know, slowly decomposing at night, or feeling your soul be tugged closer to the crust of the earth to dwell with Satan? No collapsing in the middle of the quad or trying to drown yourself in the fountain?” 

Sousuke snorted. “Don’t think so.” 

“Really?” 

“...I don’t know. It’s all exhausting, and it sucks, but life is pretty good right now. I may want to rip someone’s head off after getting a bad grade on a presentation I stayed up until five in the morning for, but that can’t really be helped. Work is work.” He pulled a face and shrugged. “I’m okay.” 

Makoto pursed his full lips, studying Sousuke’s face carefully. He lifted a hand to trace the curve of Sousuke’s bicep, his warm fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. It made Sousuke’s skin itch with a ticklish pleasure. “Okay. I worry about you, you know. I sometimes get the feeling that you’re sad.” 

“Sad?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I’ll just catch you staring off into space, and you’ll look different than when you do when we’re talking. Sometimes I worry about you getting lonely.” Makoto met his eyes, his eyebrows drawn together. “You… You don’t really have a lot of friends, here. I know you have Rin to talk to, and me, and occasionally people like Fujioka and Tanaka… I don’t know. I just don’t want you to feel alone.” 

“Makoto, have you met me?” Sousuke asked, laughing humorlessly. “I’ve never exactly been comfortable being around a lot of people.” 

“I know, I know. But everybody gets lonely, right?”

“Not when they have you,” he said simply. 

Makoto didn’t bat an eyelash. He just looked at Sousuke with pleasantly flushed cheeks and a slightly irritated expression, before resting his forehead on Sousuke’s shoulder and groaning. “Do you have to turn everything into a compliment? My heart can’t take it.” 

“I know. I like it when you blush,” Sousuke replied. He grazed a finger across Makoto’s jaw, from his ear to his chin, and tilted his face up so their gazes met. Makoto looked away, his freckled cheeks a dusty pink. The scarlet shade of his face only intensified as Sousuke touched their lips together almost reverently, brushing the tender skin as if a single, shallow breath would shatter him. He flicked his tongue out to dampen the soft, dry calluses from where Makoto had bit his lip. Makoto’s curled eyelashes fluttered closed, his breath warm against Sousuke’s mouth. His face was red enough to stand in the place of a traffic light. 

It was kinda funny, how differently they were affected by intimacy. Sousuke could kiss softly and sweetly without the slightest hint of embarrassment, but once things got somewhat serious, he dissolved into a needy, demanding mess. Makoto was the opposite, as far as he understood. He was collected and effortlessly sexy when their clothes started coming off, but a mere peck on the cheek turned him to the color of a stop sign and had him ducking under the table with his hands covering his face. It was infuriatingly adorable. 

“You’re the worst,” Makoto mumbled, when Sousuke pulled away just before his lip could be nipped at. He lifted a hand and curled it slowly through Sousuke’s hair, tugging him closer and forcing their mouths to collide fully. They kissed each other deeper, but the softness of something chaste and meaningful still slid between their lips. 

Sousuke progressively allowed his mouth to wander. He pressed kisses to the corners of Makoto’s mouth, his jaw, his throat. He nuzzled Makoto’s warm skin, brushing his nose along his pulse and pursing his lips against the crook of his neck. The scent of sweet citrus, chlorine, and sweat was beginning to drive him insane, making his head spin and the ground feel light beneath him. A pleasant sting at the back of his skull returned as Makoto curled his fingers deeper into his hair. He slipped a hand up the front of Makoto’s tank top, brushing his abs and cupping one pectoral, his thumb brushing a soft, slightly swollen nipple. Makoto sighed dreamily at his touch. He wrapped his free arm around Sousuke’s neck and tilted his head back to give Sousuke more room to nip and suck at his throat. What little focus Sousuke wasn’t giving the soft skin against his mouth, he put into tweaking Makoto’s nipple until he squirmed, endlessly enjoying the little puffy noises Makoto was beginning to make. 

“Is this payback?” Makoto breathed. He made a soft sound of pleasure in the back of his throat as Sousuke pressed and pinched at him, his long legs folding with what seemed to be anticipation. He lifted a hand to hold Sousuke’s shoulder gently, his fingers pressing into the thick material of Sousuke’s brace through his shirt. “For my… last act of kindness?” 

What a cute way to describe a blowjob that had nearly blown Sousuke’s brains out.

“It can be,” Sousuke murmured against his skin. He massaged around Makoto’s nipple, teasing the hardening area. “Do you want it to be? I wouldn’t mind repaying the favor.” 

“I have swimming in maybe ten minutes, Sousuke.” 

“Seems like enough time to me,” he said. His heart was beginning to thump with desire, and a desperate need to barrel Makoto over and make a mess of him was starting to quicken the pace of his kisses. He panted into Makoto’s neck, sucking at the sweet-tasting flesh and touching his tongue to it. The hand teasing Makoto’s nipple moved south again, dragging across Makoto’s stomach and resting snugly against his crotch. He palmed him through his basketball shorts, and Makoto let out a quiet moan. He pressed up into Sousuke’s hand, a steadily growing hardness in his pants pretty evident. 

Holy shit, he was hot. 

The irritating beeping of Makoto’s watch cut them off, and they froze. Makoto cleared his throat and gently pushed Sousuke away, letting out a disappointed sigh as he held up his wrist to check the screen of his watch. Sousuke sat back on his heels, his blood pumping in his ears and a very annoyed scowl firmly in place. He shifted closer to brush his thumb against Makoto’s crotch, but Makoto pushed his hand away, not looking up from his wrist. 

“I really have to go. Swimming starts in five minutes,” he said. He sighed and stood. “To be continued?” 

“...Yeah,” Sousuke growled, frowning. “If we’re not both busy with studying.” 

Makoto gave him a fond smile and ruffled his hair. “We’ll get around to it.” 

Sousuke exhaled through his nose. “We better.” 

“We will.” Makoto leaned down to kiss his forehead, brushing the short dark strands out of the way with his thumb. “Let’s do something, tonight. We haven’t gone out in forever.” 

“Why go out when we could stay in? We have no money for a proper date, anyway.” Sousuke pouted up at him. “I thought you liked our movie-dorito-cuddle dates.” 

“I do. But we’re college freshmen, aren’t we? We should be going to parties, or out dancing. And Gen-chan is throwing a party tonight over by her sorority, so we could go to that.” Makoto pointed out, flashing him a heart-melting smile. “The world is old, and we are young.” 

Sousuke wrinkled his nose. “Damn you and your poetic, cliched philosophies.” 

Makoto brightened. “Is that a yes?” 

“...Yeah, I guess. I could always stand to get a little drunk,” he said, leaning back. He frowned and poked at Makoto’s hard stomach. “Although, we probably shouldn’t go too crazy, if we’re going to a party. Alcohol murders athletic abilities.”

“One night won’t change anything, surely.” 

“That’s exactly what a future alcoholic would say.” 

Makoto gave him a soft smile. “Fine, fine. We’ll be careful.” 

“Damn straight,” Sousuke grunted. He leaned forward and tugged at the hem of Makoto’s basketball shorts. “And after being careful, we could flag a taxi down and make out in the back.” 

“In a taxi cab?” Makoto asked, wrinkling his nose. “That’s gross. You don’t know where that’s been.” 

“You don’t know where Fujioka’s been, but that doesn’t seem to stop you from giving me a blowjob on his bed.” 

Makoto deflated, a rosy color lifted to his face. “Point taken. We’ll see.” 

“Goodie. Do you mind if I hang out here for the day? Your bed is comfier.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be back in an hour,” Makoto said, moving to the door and scooping his swim bag up. He slipped on his shoes, attempted to smooth down his hair, and shoved his arms into a thin jacket. “We can go to Gen-chan’s party after that.” 

“Okay. Hey,” Sousuke said, just as Makoto opened the door. He brought his eyebrows together. “Are you gonna be okay? You’re not going to, erm…” 

Makoto didn’t reply immediately. He looked at the ground and gnawed at his lip. “I dunno. I don’t think so. Swimming relaxes me, and people relax me. I should be okay.” 

“Alright, then.” Sousuke gave a small, hesitant nod. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” Makoto said, offering what probably was supposed to be a reassuring smile. He slipped through the door and waved, before closing it behind him. “See ya.” 

“See ya,” Sousuke echoed. 

\---000---

Not thirty minutes later, Sousuke was awoken from his nap by the cheery, insistent buzzing of his phone, indicating that some asshole was continually sending him text after text. Sousuke wasn’t sure how long it had been buzzing like that, but it must’ve been a while, if it had managed to wake him up. Makoto always said that his bear-snores were enough to deafen anyone, including himself, so waking him up was a pretty impressive feat. 

Growling, he lifted his head from Makoto’s plush pillow, (that smelled delightfully of Makoto’s shampoo,) and groped around the bedside table for his phone. He snagged it and brought it close to his face, rolling over and tangling himself more in Makoto’s blanket. The messenger icon wriggling on the screen was accompanied by a little fourteen. Fourteen missed texts. All in the span of thirty minutes. 

Sighing, he pulled up his messages. All fourteen read ‘Makoto,’ and all fourteen seemed to have been sent in entirely caps. Makoto must’ve forgotten something. He opened the most recent ones. 

 

‘Makoto: SOUSUKE GET UP I LEFT MY SWIM CAP AND I NEED YOU TO GET IT FOR ME CMON HE’S GOING TO YELL AT ME AGAIN AND I CANT HANDLE HIM YELLING AT ME GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF BED AND GET DOWN HERE OR IM TAKING AWAY YOUR TV SET’

 

‘Makoto: PLS IM BEGGING YOU I CAN ONLY WARM UP FOR SO LONG AND NOBODY ELSE HAS AN EXTRA SWIM CAP HE’S GOING TO KILL ME’

 

‘Makoto: I WOULD ASK HIM FOR ONE BUT IVE ALREADY ASKED HIM ENOUGH TIMES ALREADY HES GOING TO BREAK ME IN HALF IF I DONT HAVE MY CAP’ 

 

‘Makoto: PLEASE HURRY I GOT AWAY WITH DOING TIMES BUT WE SWITCH IN 20 MINUTES’

 

‘Makoto: GET UP YOU FUKCING BEAR’ 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows and let out a surprised, amused puff. If Makoto was cursing, things were serious. He sat up and stretched his arms over his head, his spine popping at the action. The latest text had been sent a couple minutes before, so there was probably still time to run down to the campus’s Natatorium and slip Makoto his swimming cap… If Sousuke managed to find it, that is. He heaved himself to his feet and slid on a pair of Makoto’s beach flip-flops, texting Makoto back as he went. 

‘Sousuke: I’m up don’t worry. Where is it?’

 

Makoto’s reply was almost immediate. 

 

‘Makoto: by my dresser I think. What took you so long??” 

 

‘Sousuke: sleeping’ 

 

‘Makoto: I knew it. Well hurry please!! Coach Miya is gonna shout at me in front of everyone if I dont have something.’ 

 

‘Sousuke: k I’m on my way’

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Sousuke glanced around the dorm, before his gaze locked on the shiny black material of Makoto’s swim cap, laying dejectedly on the top of Makoto’s dresser. He gathered it in one hand, slid on one of Makoto’s hung jackets, and wrenched the door open to slip outside. The hallway was quiet, thankfully, and its only inhabitants were a couple of chatting girls. Sousuke jogged down the corridor to the stairway, taking the stairs two at a time down. His flip flops made muffled clapping sounds as he went, and he inwardly cursed Makoto’s poor choice in footwear on a college campus. Honestly. When did he even wear these? To class? 

He was just about to push his way out of the front doors of the dorm building when a familiar flash of blue, red, and gold caught his eye, over by the building plan tacked to a wall. He slowed, his hand frozen on the door handle and the heel of his foot resting on the ground in mid-step. 

“...Did he say floor eight? I could’ve sworn he said floor eight,” a familiar, thoughtful voice mused. It came from the tallest of the three people standing in front of the building plan: the one with the mess of oddly blue hair and the simple peach t-shirt. Sousuke narrowed his eyes and pouted, wracking his brain for any hint as to how he knew that voice and the person who accompanied it. 

“I think you’re right. Floor eight… but which room? Like, twenty-four, or something. Something that eight goes into. I remember it was something like that,” the girl next to the blue-haired guy said, her hands clasped behind her back. She tilted her head, her loose, scarlet hair brushing against her blouse at the action. “Or maybe it was sixteen…”   
“Why don’t we just call him and ask?”

“No! That’ll ruin the surprise!” The one on the other side of the blue-haired guy cried, his voice insistent. His hair was a golden, honeyed color that blended with his tan skin nicely, and a Tokyo tourist sweater was tied around his waist. He, ironically enough, was wearing flip flops too. “We’ve come so far! We managed to find Mako-chan’s campus without any help. If we call him now, all our hard work would be for nothing!” 

“Maybe we could call Sousuke-kun,” the girl with the loose scarlet hair offered, and Sousuke’s mind managed to lock with recognition. “He lives in the building, too, and he and Mako-ch-” 

“Gou?” Sousuke demanded, taking a step back from the door. The girl with the scarlet hair turned at the sound of her name, her gaze roaming the room for a moment before finding Sousuke. She started, a familiar smile coming to her face. 

“Sousuke-kun!” she cried. She closed the space between them at an impressive speed, throwing herself at him and jerking him down to her height so she could wrap her arms around his neck. “It’s so good to see you!” 

“It’s… good to see you, too,” Sousuke said. He hesitantly returned the embrace, laughing a little under his breath. “I didn’t recognize you with your hair down. What on earth are you doing here?” 

“We’re here for nationals!” Gou replied. She released him and stepped back, grinning wide. “Like last year, remember? The Iwatobi swim team made it again!” 

“Iwatobi…?” Sousuke echoed. He glanced up at Gou’s companions, his eyebrows lifting in recognition. “Oh. Oh, right. Hazuki and Ryuugazaki.” 

“Sou-chan!” Hazuki said, beaming. Without hesitation he followed Gou’s lead and threw himself into Sousuke’s arms, like a kid who’d just been reunited with his long-lost father. Sousuke barely managed to save him from landing face-first on the ground. “Mako-chan said you’d be here, but I thought it was too good to be true!” 

“Um, yeah. I’m here. Get off,” Sousuke growled, gently shoving Hazuki back. Hazuki grinned up at him, unbothered. Rei came to stand at his side, blinking up at Sousuke through red spectacles. Sousuke cleared his throat and nodded to him. “Ryuugazaki.” 

“Hi again, Yama- er, Sousuke-san,” Rei said, barely catching himself. “It’s been a while.” 

“Yeah. The last time I talked to you was…” Sousuke winced and let himself trail off. He glanced from Rei to Hazuki. “Well, you know.” 

“O-oh, right.” Rei’s cheeks flushed as red as his glasses. He cleared his throat and adjusted them with his thumb and middle-finger, a nervous tick that Sousuke had picked up on during their brief encounters. “Well, anyways. As Gou mentioned, we’re in town for nationals, so we figured we’d stop by and visit Makoto-senpai and Haruka-senpai. He mentioned that this was his dorm building, but…” 

“You have no idea how difficult it was to get here!” Hazuki interjected, his shoulders slumping with exaggerated exhaustion. “Your campus is much too big. We spent, like, an hour on the quad trying to figure out where everything was.” 

Sousuke cocked an eyebrow. “It’s really not that big…” 

“It is compared to schools in Iwatobi,” Gou offered. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at a couple of built guys standing by the vending machine, a small smile on her lips. “Everything’s bigger in Tokyo, it seems…” 

“Ew,” Sousuke said, wrinkling his nose. Gou gave him an offended look. 

“What? Am I not allowed to admire?” 

“You’re allowed to admire, but have some courtesy for your big brother’s best friend. It weirds me out to see you ogling at people. You’re supposed to be a little girl.” 

“I am an independent woman, Yamazaki Sousuke,” Gou replied, sniffing and putting her hands on her hips. “You and Rin can’t pretend like you need to protect me forever.” 

Hazuki snickered. “You’re an independent woman, Gou-chan? Just yesterday you were sobbing like a little girl because your hair got stuck in the lamp by your hotel bed.” 

“It hurt!” Gou huffed, her cheeks flushing pink. 

“You should’ve seen her, Sou-chan,” Hazuki said in a stage whisper. “Rei-chan and I had to untangle her while she wriggled like a worm on a hook.” 

Gou shoved his shoulder, pouting furiously. “Show some respect for your manager!” 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough,” Rei said with a sigh, stepping between them. It definitely didn’t seem like he was a stranger to this behavior, but it was a little strange to see him take charge of the situation. In the brief times that Sousuke had witnessed the Iwatobi team turn to disarray, (how could it not, with those team members?) Makoto had been the one to cut off any chances of conflict. It was as if Makoto had stepped back and Rei had immediately moved forward to fill his footprints. 

“Right. Sorry. We’re here on a mission, and we can’t be distracted!” Hazuki said firmly, balling his small hand into a fist. He shoved a demanding finger in Sousuke’s face. “Sou-chan! Take us to Mako-chan’s dorm, please!” 

Sousuke scowled and swatted his finger away. “Makoto isn’t in his dorm. He’s swimming, right now. I should actually probably get go-” 

“Oh, really?” Gou asked, brightening. She clapped her hands together and smiled wide. “Will you take us to him? It would be awesome to see how he’s improved!” 

“He must’ve, if he’s on the university team,” Rei said. 

“Yeah! I want to see Mako-chan swim!” Hazuki chirped. “He mentioned he was trying to strengthen his freestyle, and I can’t wait to see what-” 

“Fine, fine,” Sousuke said shortly, cutting him off. “I’m going to the Natatorium anyway to drop off his swim cap, so you three can tag along, I guess.” 

All three of them smiled like little triplets on Christmas morning. Hazuki moved fluidly forward and looped his arm with Sousuke’s. “Lead the way, Sou-chan!” 

“Let go of-” 

“C’mon! We’re off to see the Mako-chan! The wonderful Mako-chan of Tokyo!” Gou sang, coming to loop her slender arm around Sousuke’s free one. The smaller pair tugged him forward, making him stumble slightly. Sousuke scowled in irritation but didn’t pull away, deciding that fighting it would probably just waste time. 

“Rei-chan! Link your arm with me! It’ll be like the Wizard of Oz!” Hazuki demanded, holding his free arm out. “You can be the Cowardly Lion, Sou-chan can be the Tin Man, I’ll be the Scarecrow, and Gou-chan can be Dorothy!” 

“Why do I have to be the cowardly lion…?” Rei said, his shoulders drooping. He gave Sousuke an apologetic look and linked arms with Hazuki obediently. “Let’s just hurry this along, you two. Sousuke-san’s in a rush.” 

Sousuke set his jaw and tugged them all forward, causing Gou and Hazuki to yelp in surprise. “That’s right. Fall behind, and I’m leaving you to the squirrels.” 

“So mean, Sou-chan!” 

\---000---

Getting all four of them was harder than Sousuke had originally anticipated. Finding the Natatorium was a feat in itself, (seven months on this damn campus, and Sousuke still couldn’t tell the auditorium lecture hall from the cafeteria,) but managing to get his unexpected companions there without stopping every five minutes was a whole new meaning of difficult. Hazuki seemed to take him for some sort of tour guide, pointing at things and demanding explanations. He also insisted on skipping so they’d look more like the characters from The Wizard of Oz as they went. Without Rei’s help, they probably would’ve been stuck on the green field for a couple hours. 

Along the way, Gou seemed to magically realize that Sousuke had gained some muscle in his biceps, and spent the rest of the time groping at his arm and chattering about his recent diet plan. Sousuke managed to deflect all of her questions with a short series of ‘ask Makoto,’ and ‘I dunno,’ and ‘just bananas and health bars, really.’ It was hard to focus on her when he was desperately trying to find his way to the Natatorium. They probably would’ve all wandered the campus for the rest of the afternoon if Sousuke hadn’t spotted a couple girls carrying swim team duffel bags and followed them with his companions in tow. They must’ve been quite the spectacle: three guys and a girl with their arms linked, stumbling after strangers, with one of them demanding in a very loud voice that they all skip like fucking cartoon characters. It was the longest walk across campus that Sousuke had experienced thus far. And that included the time that Makoto had hurt his ankle and had needed to be carried piggy-back. 

“Okay. This is it,” Sousuke said, when he finally managed to get them all to the Natatorium: a short building with a glass ceiling. He sighed and forced his arms out of Gou and Hazuki’s grip so he could hold the door open for them all. “C’mon, we don’t have all day.” 

“Right!” Hazuki strode past him with his shoulders set, a bounce in his step. “Let’s go find Mako-chan!” 

“He’s going to be so surprised,” Gou said. She smiled wide, and for a moment, Sousuke could’ve sworn that he caught a sharpness to her canines. Had they always been like that…? 

“Do you think he’s gotten any taller? The last time we saw him, he’d gained an inch in the summer.” Rei nodded to Sousuke in gratitude for holding the door open, and Sousuke slipped in behind them. They made their way through the small lobby and down a wide corridor, which Sousuke assumed led to the pool. “It’s unusual for someone of his age to still be growing, but…” 

“Maybe he’s a giant!” Hazuki said enthusiastically. He jogged ahead of them down the hallway, his Tokyo tourist sweater billowing out behind him like a cape. “Can you imagine that? A giant Mako-chan. Heh. He could give us all rides on his shoulders.” 

Gou gave him a thoughtful pout. “I don’t think he’d like that very much. He wouldn’t be able to swim in pools, and he might accidentally step on someone.” 

“What the hell is this conversation,” Sousuke muttered under his breath, sighing. He motioned for the three of them to follow him at a faster pace. “C’mon. You can wait in the viewing seats. I’ll run Makoto’s cap to him.” 

Hazuki clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “This is so exciting! It’s been way too long since any of us saw Mako-chan swim!” 

“It’s been awhile since he’s seen any of us swim, too,” Rei added. He tilted his nose up and adjusted his glasses. “He’s bound to be impressed, when he comes to see us at nationals. This is our chance to prove to him that he left the club in good hands.” 

Hazuki scoffed. “Like he wouldn’t already believe that, after all the posters and ideas we showed him on skype. He’s no stranger to our genius club-managing skills.” 

“Speak for yourself. I’m the one doing all the managing,” Gou said. “All you boys have to do is put on skimpy swimsuits and yell at the ones that aren’t in the pool.” 

“I-it’s more than that!”

Sousuke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How Makoto managed to stand all of this screeching was beyond him. He snagged the back of Hazuki’s collar and tugged him back, nodding to a set of wide stairs further ahead, as the hallway opened into another shallow room. “Just… Go up to the viewing seats. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Rei asked hesitantly. He looked down at his feet. “Erm, Makoto-senpai might’ve mentioned that you’re not very good with dire-”

“Keep an eye on them,” Sousuke said, huffing. He clenched Makoto’s swim cap in his hand and jogged forward, towards a god-sent sign pointing down another hallway, reading ‘training pool.’ “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

\---000---

Thankfully, Makoto was hovering by the pool door when Sousuke managed to find it. He caught Sousuke’s eyes through the window in the door first, glanced around for anyone inside who might be looking, and eased it open. 

“Hey. What took you so long? We’re about to start-” 

“Here,” Sousuke said, holding out the swim cap. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Sorry. Got a little… sidetracked.” 

Makoto took it with careful fingers, flashing him an infuriatingly knowing look. “Did you get lost, Sou?”

“...No. I just, erm.” Sousuke huffed. “Look, you’ll get it later.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Makoto said, smiling. “Thanks for bringing my cap.” 

“You owe me,” Sousuke growled. “I was just starting to enjoy a nap when you decided to aggressively text me.” 

Makoto winced. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“You better,” Sousuke said. He stuck out his face in a demand for a kiss. “You can start by-”

“Yo! Tachibana! We’re starting!” A sharp voice said from inside, and Makoto jumped, his face flushing. 

“C-coming!” he called over his shoulder. He turned back to Sousuke with an apologetic smile. “I gotta go. Are you going back to the dorms, or…?” 

“No, I’ll probably stay here,” Sousuke said, sighing. His better nature was urging him to stick around for the sake of Gou, Rei and Hazuki, and his more rational nature forced him to admit that he probably would get lost if he tried to find his way back to the dorms by himself. He’d stopped paying attention to the route they’d taken to get to the Natatorium after they’d started following those two swimmer girls. “You only have twenty minutes or so left, right? That’s not that long.” 

Makoto brought his eyebrows together. You don’t have to-” 

“Tachibana!” The sharp voice from inside barked, and Makoto winced. “Hurry it up, or I’ll have Ikayo cover for you.”

“Relax, Coach,” a younger voice said, and Sousuke caught a glimpse of a guy inside with yellow-striped legskins and auburn curls. The view into the hallway must’ve been obstructed by the other door, because he gave no sign that he’d seen Sousuke’s face. “He’s probably just talking to his little girlfriend.”

Makoto flushed pink, and Sousuke heard a few of the other students around the pool snicker. 

“Tell her we say hello, Makoto-kun!”

“She should come in and introduce herself. We don’t bite!” 

“She must be pretty cute, to snag our lovely Makoto-kun.”

“Yeah, I definitely wanna meet the chick who's been giving him hickeys the size of nectarines.” 

Laughter erupted amongst the swimmers, and Makoto clapped a hand over his eyes, turning a violent shade of red. Sousuke flinched, feeling heat rise to his own face. He couldn’t help but glance at Makoto’s throat, where he’d, admittedly, left some pretty large, (but thankfully faint,) pink marks. He hadn’t noticed them before, but now that they’d been pointed out, they stood out like fat tattoos. 

“Well, his girlfriend can talk to him later. We have drills to do,” the older voice said, huffing. “Say goodbye to your little friend and get over here, Tachibana.”

“Y-yes sir,” Makoto called back, blushing down to his collarbone. He glanced apologetically at Sousuke, gnawing on his lip. “I’ll see you after practice, then…?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be in the viewing seats,” Sousuke said, swallowing. He hesitated, before leaning forward to kiss Makoto’s lips softly. “Good luck.” 

“T-thanks,” Makoto murmured. He leaned out into the hallway to press another, longer kiss to Sousuke’s mouth. “See you in a few, then.” 

“Wait, did he just kiss her?” One of the swimmers demanded loudly from inside, which prompted a series of exaggeratedly dreamy sighs and laughs. 

“Our little freshman is growing up so fast!”

“It seems like only yesterday he was locking himself in the changing rooms with a beet red face because a girl told him she liked his muscles!” 

“At least we know someone’s making good use of those muscles, now…” 

The swimmers inside roared. Sousuke was a little more than tempted to step into the Natatorium and give them a glare that could kill, but before he could even consider the possibility, Makoto hurriedly closed the door to the hallway and scrambled to join his coach beside the pool. Sousuke forced himself to relax and turn around to stalk back up to the viewing seats. 

\---000---

Hazuki, Gou, and Rei were already crowded by the viewer’s window when he stepped up from the last stair, whispering excitedly. Gou and Hazuki stood side by side, tapping their fingers against the glass and pointing at different swimmers, and Rei watched silently over their shoulders, adding the occasional comment about a swimmer’s physique. Sousuke approached them hesitantly, a little tempted to just lean against the wall and wait for them to be ready to leave. Gods, he really was a hermit.

Rei looked up when he approached. “Oh, you’re back! Did you give Makoto-senpai his cap?” 

“Yeah. He should be alright, now,” Sousuke said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at the pool through the glass, lifting an eyebrow. “Have they started drills, yet? They were about to when I left.” 

“No, they’re starting now, it looks like,” Rei replied. He pursed his lips and studied the line of gathering swimmers for a moment, before pointed a finger to the second to last starting podium. “There’s Makoto-senpai, I think.” 

“Where?” Gou asked, scooting closer to him to follow his finger. 

“There. On the far right. He’s the one in the white and green legskins,” Rei said, tapping his finger to the glass. Sousuke followed his gaze as well, catching a glimpse of Makoto’s chestnut hair near the end of the startup line. Sure enough, his long legs were clad in white legskins to his ankles, a swirling green group of lines tracing the curve of his hips, thighs, and calves. Most of the other swimmers on the lineup had similar designs with varying colors, and a tiny copy the school’s simple emblem on the side. The swim team’s uniform for the more elite of members, Sousuke assumed. He hadn’t noticed the suit before, but now that he was getting a good look at it… damn. The white material made Makoto’s skin look only tanner, and the green only made his eyes pop more. He looked like some sort of swimmer angel. Sousuke half expected him to sprout a pair of wings and take off flying when he leapt from the podium. 

Gou inhaled sharply, reaching out to grasp at Sousuke’s sleeve, a hand to her mouth. She watched Makoto with wide scarlet eyes as he tucked his goggles on and crouching into a starting position. “Rei! Nagisa! Are you seeing this? Are you seeing this, or is this a beautiful figment of my imagination?” She gushed. 

Hazuki gave her a perplexed look, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. “What?”

“Makoto -senpai’s trapezius muscles, obviously!” Gou snapped. She tugged harder on Sousuke’s shirt, practically shaking with excitement. “He’s developed so much! And look at his gastrocnemius muscles!”

Hazuki pouted. “Gastro… cnemius?” 

“His calves,” Rei clarified. 

“He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d taken up running,” Gou said. Her loose red hair seemed to legitimately swell with energy as she watched Makoto with wide eyes. “I mean, just look at his quadriceps…” 

“His outer thighs,” Rei said, when Hazuki gave him a curious look. Sousuke resisted the urge to hum in agreement. Makoto’s thighs were definitely something to show an interest in… Although, he doubted Gou was admiring them in the same way he would. (Well, maybe she was, but Sousuke would rather not consider that prospect.)

“I don’t know,” Hazuki mused, narrowing his rosy eyes at Makoto’s figure. “Mako-chan doesn’t look all that different, to me. He’s still tall and muscular.” 

Gou gave him a disgusted look. “And you call yourself an athlete? His development is pretty obvious, to me!”

Hazuki gave her a teasing smile. “I’m more concerned with those white legskins, myself. Don’t you think Rei-chan would look absolutely dashing in one of those?”

“Shush, you two. He’s about to start,” Rei said, his voice carrying a strange lilt and his face flushing slightly. Sousuke followed his gaze back down to Makoto’s starting block. The four of them fell silent as the coach called the length and standard, his voice sharp and commanding. THe whistle blew, and Makoto and the other swimmers shot forward, their long arms coming together to form a tall triangle in perfect unison. Makoto hit the water a tad further than his neighbors, thanks to his height, and momentarily disappeared under the glassy surface. When he reappeared, there was no hesitancy whatsoever as he began ruthlessly front crawling, his toned arms snapping forward and pushing backward with deadly precision. Sousuke’s shoulders tensed up, pleasantly surprised at his boyfriend’s sharp ferocity. Makoto had always had an explosive and dynamic stroke, but it had been awhile since Sousuke had seen it in action. 

He’d improved, without a doubt. As far as Sousuke was aware, the front crawl was Makoto’s most powerful stroke, after backstroke. It had showed in the 200m race he’d been in with Nanase, but now… Sousuke doubted he’d be able to keep up with him, with or without a fucked up shoulder. Makoto had obviously dived into a whole new world of swimming upon his start at university. Even something as simple as a drill had a much cleaner, deadlier feel to it than some of the most prestigious races in high school. Just watching the line of swimmers slice through the water made Sousuke’s heart thump with longing and intimidation. 

“Wow! Look at him go!” Hazuki cried, pressing himself against the glass. He twisted to get a better look further down the pool, where the swimmers were making the turn. “Mako-chan is in fourth place! He’s like a bullet!” 

“Do you think he’ll pull ahead?” Rei asked, leaning forward and nervously adjusting his glasses. “Makoto-senpai’s strength has always been in his stroke, not his turn, so maybe-”   
“He’s doing it!” Gou interrupted him, her voice almost squeaking. She yanked on Sousuke’s shirt so hard that Sousuke was forced down to her height. “”Look, he’s gaining on the-!” 

“Third place! He’s in third place!” Hazuki whooped, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. He slapped his hands against the glass, as if trying to get Makoto’s attention. “C’mon, Mako-chan! You’re so close!” 

Sousuke couldn’t tear his eyes away. Makoto’s tan, rippling body was a wave, sharpening and dipping with the effort of his swelling motions. He was an extension of the water, a burst of power that sliced through the lane as cleanly as a knife through melted butter. Everything about Makoto, usually soft and friendly, was predatorial, ruthless. He was the powerful smack of a tail on the surface, the ivory gleam of large, rounded teeth, the sorrowful song of a lone whale in open waters. He occupied the entire world as he moved, commanding and massive and strong. The water bent at his whim, exploding under the force of his arms and legs as if it's only wish was to aid his desperate race to the finish line. Right then, in that slender lane, he was a dictator. Everything that Sousuke could comprehend was focused on him. Him, and the bubbling, churning destruction he left in his wake. 

They couldn’t hear the smack of Makoto’s hand against the side of the pool from behind the glass, but Sousuke felt it in his chest, as if Makoto had smacked him, instead. He burst from the water, sucking in a breath, droplets falling down his face and throat. 

“S-second place!” Rei hissed, his voice dripping with awe. Hazuki crowed something intangible at his side, and Gou practically squealed with happiness, clapping her hands together. 

“Second place,” Sousuke echoed. An uncontrollable smile forced its way to his face. He curled his fingers into fists in his pockets, pride swelling in his chest. “Not bad, Tachibana.” 

“And that’s not even supposed to be his best stroke!” Hazuki said, smiling so wide it looked as if his face couldn’t contain it. “Can you imagine how he must be at backstroke?” 

“That time would be enough to win nationals! And it’s not even his best!” Gou said. Her scarlet gaze swam with admiration as she watched Makoto heave himself out of the pool, water dripping down the crevices of his body. “He’s come so far…” 

“And not even in seven months,” Rei breathed. He shook his head, smiling to himself. “Knowing that he’s improved so quickly, with such good results… It makes you really question why he didn’t join Haruka-senpai and Rin-san in the professional world.” 

“Well, at the end of high school, Mako-chan wasn’t really on their level, was he?” Hazuki asked, bringing his eyebrows together. “I mean, he was good, yeah. Mako-chan’s always been good. But Haru-chan and Rinrin and…” He hesitated, casting a glance at Sousuke. “Sou-chan were pretty much phenomenal. He, well, couldn’t really measure up to them, could he?” 

“Maybe not, but if this proves anything, it’s that his dedication is next to miraculous,” Rei said. “I mean, considering all the time he’s been putting into his university studies, on top of this…” 

“He works hard,” Sousuke said, shrugging. “Everything he’s accomplished, he’s paid for.” 

Gou nodded. Her gaze lingered on Makoto down below, as he talked easily with some of the other team members, one hand on his hip and the other slicking his damp bangs out of his face. Sousuke smiled to himself as he laughed and flushed pink, touching a couple of fingers to his throat, where the ‘love-bites’ were. Gou sighed through her nose, tilting her head to the side as she studied him. “If only he were a year younger. Maybe he would’ve been able to put his last year towards a scholarship, to reach Haruka-senpai and Onii-chan’s level.” 

“But that’s not what he wants, right? He wants to be a coach,” Hazuki said. “Surely having another year wouldn’t have changed that…”

Rei shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows? One year makes a big difference.” His violet eyes softened with fondness. “And Makoto-senpai’s the living proof.” 

Sousuke watched him out of the corner of his eye, his hand instinctively drifting towards his bad shoulder. He brushed his thumb across the fabric of his jacket, tracing the curve of his brace. 

One year. 

He wondered absently if that would’ve been enough for the both of them. 

\---000---

The highlight of Sousuke’s day was probably the look of complete, unadulterated horror on Makoto’s face when a honey-haired, rosy-eyed tornado came lunging for him the moment he stepped into the viewing room. Sousuke only had a sliver of a moment to enjoy the expression, however, because the next second Makoto was toppling over under Hazuki’s sudden weight, letting out a strangled yelp as Hazuki wrapped his short arms around his face and forced him to the ground. They landed in a heap on the floor, and Sousuke bit back a laugh as Makoto slumped back and groaned, his eyes wide. 

“Mako-chan! It’s me, Nagisa!” Hazuki chirped, tugging at his jacket. “I’m in Tokyo, see?”

“N-Nagisa…?” Makoto echoed. He sat up, blinking at the bouncing blonde menace in his lap. “Wait. Wait, you’re-?”

“And look! Rei-chan and Gou-chan are here with me, too! We came to see you!” 

“Wha-”

“Makoto-senpai!” Sousuke fought a snicker as Gou dropped to her knees at their side and wrapped her arms around Makoto’s neck, pulling him in for tight embrace. Makoto let out a surprised grunt. “It’s so good to see you in person, again! You were amazing down there!”

Makoto spat out some of Gou’s loose hair that had somehow gotten in his mouth when she’d lunged for him.“T-thanks, but what-”

“We came to surprise you! Sou-chan brought us here so we could see you swim. You have no idea how long it took us to get to your campus. Or how long it took to find your droms. And you weren’t even there! You know, I’m beginning to think that you leaving your swim cap was fate, so Sou-chan would find us. It would’ve been so awful if we’d come all this way just to miss you because-”

“Wait, wait,” Makoto interrupted, sputtering. He glanced from Hazuki, to Gou, to Rei his eyes wide. “You guys are in Tokyo…?” 

“Well, obviously,” Hazuki said, laughing. He bounced on Makoto’s lap, throwing his arms up in the air. “We’re right here! What are you, blind?”

“N-no, I’m just…” Makoto shook his head, blinking repeatedly. He smiled in confusion, glancing at them all in turn again. “Wow. That's amazing! What on earth are you doing here?” 

“We’re here for nationals,” Rei said, adjusting his glasses. “Since we were here, we figured we’d drop by and see how you and Haruka-senpai are doing. I was also interested in looking into your university, but-” 

“We missed you so much!” Hazuki cried, cutting him off. He hugged Makoto tight, nuzzling his cheek with his blonde curls. Makoto laughed and returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. “It feels like forever since we saw each other!” 

“We snapchat almost every day, Nagisa.” 

“But it’s not the same! I want to hug you like this everyday.” Hazuki tightened his grip, and Makoto gave a labored puff. “From this point onward, I’m never letting you go.” 

“Then how are you going to swim?” Gou asked, laughing. She shoved Hazuki’s shoulder lightly, scooting forward on her knees. “Move over. I wanna hug him, again.” 

Hazuki grudgingly complied, and Makoto turned to embrace Gou with a wide smile. The surprise drained from his face, immediately being replaced by undeniable, innocent joy. It made Sousuke’s heart thump happily, to see him hold Gou with such a warm, genuine smile, dimples in his cheeks and a gleam in his summer-green eyes. He laughed, his canines flashing and his dimples deepening. “It’s so good to see you guys! You really came all the way to my campus just to say hello?”

“Of course! We love you, and we miss you,” Gou gushed, turning her face to place a rather wet kiss on his cheek. “Just you wait, we’re going to take you out to a fancy dinner, and we’re all going to go shopping, and you’re going to tell me all about the regimen you’ve been following to get such nice legs…” She gave Sousuke a look over her shoulder. “Sousuke-kun’s hardly been any help about that.” 

Makoto laughed again, his bell-like voice turning heads. “Don’t be too frustrated with him, Gou-chan. What he lacks in planning he makes up for in dedication.” 

“And my obvious good looks,” Sousuke added. 

“Oh, obviously,” Makoto said, pouting in all seriousness. “I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten that.” 

“My beauty is so effortless that it must’ve just slipped your mind.” 

Makoto hummed. “You’re probably right.”

Hazuki and Gou looked between them, their eyes wide. Gou tapped Makoto’s cheek, her eyebrows drawn together. “Makoto-senpai, are you and Sousuke-kun flirting…?” 

Makoto flushed pink. He coughed into his hand, laughing nervously. “Oh, um. Right. I’ve been meaning to talk to you guys about that, actually.”

“About what?” Hazuki asked. He tilted his head like confused puppy, looking from Makoto to Sousuke and back again. “I’m confused, Mako-chan.” 

Makoto winced. “L-look, why don’t we talk about this later? We can go back to my dorm, and I can introduce you to my roommate. You guys can tell me all about what’s been going on, lately.” 

“Okay,” Gou and Hazuki said in unison, giving Sousuke strange looks over their shoulders. Sousuke shifted awkwardly under their gazes, his hands buried deep in his pockets.   
“Can you get off me, now? I kinda need to stand up to take you to my dorm…” Makoto said, laughing anxiously. He gently pushed Gou and Hazuki off of him, and Rei moved forward to help him up. Gou and Hazuki followed suit, sharing a contemplating look that was obviously an attempt to channel their perplexed thoughts. They both glanced at Rei, their eyes demanding. Rei flushed, adjusting his glasses with a nervous hand. He looked between Makoto and Sousuke, and Sousuke remembered with a jolt that Rei was the only one of Makoto’s younger friends who knew about their relationship. 

“E-erm, anyways,” he said, his voice an octave higher and a tad louder than usual. “Makoto-senpai, we should probably mention that your family is in the city, too. Your mother asked me to tell you that they’d be swinging by sometime tomorrow.” 

Sousuke stiffened. Makoto’s smile froze. He blinked down at Rei, as if the words had gone in one ear and out the other. “H-huh?” 

“Your family. They heard we were coming for nationals, so they decided to hop on the train with us to come visit you, instead of waiting until winter break for you to come back to Iwatobi,” Rei said simply. “They’re staying in the hotel that we are, actually. Your siblings are very excited to see you.” Oblivious to Makoto’s frozen expression, Rei relaxed and crossed his arms over his chest, smiling to himself. “Your father and I actually had a very stimulating conversation about the effects of the population decrease of thoracica barnacles in the Iwatobi harbor, actually!” 

Hazuki’s shoulders slumped. “Ugh, they talked through the whole train ride. I’ve heard enough about barnacles to last me a lifetime.” 

Makoto didn’t reply. He met Sousuke’s gaze, his expression oddly blank. “My parents. They’re here, then.” 

Sousuke swallowed. “Looks like it.” 

Makoto was quiet for a long time. He stared at a fixed spot, just over Sousuke’s shoulder. A shadow fell over his face, and his eyes flashed with a series of emotions: panic, sorrow, fury, anticipation. They moved through his gaze like the flicker of passing lights, the rest of his face slack. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, nodding to himself. When he opened them again, they were joined by an easy, convincing smile. “Alright, then. That’s good to hear.” 

“Maybe we can all have dinner together!” Hazuki said, beaming. “You and Haru-chan could take us to your favorite restaurant, or something!” 

“Maybe,” Makoto agreed, smiling wider. He ruffled Hazuki’s hair, and nodded toward the exit. “C’mon. Let’s go back to my dorm. I’m exhausted.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Sousuke are gross and the Tachibana clan makes a tense appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *emerges from the void with bags under my eyes and paper stuck to my clothes* HEYYYY BITCHES
> 
> I'M ALIVE (BARELY,) AND I HAVE A (LONG,) UPDATE. I also have a long break coming up so hopefully I'll be able to catch back up to my usual schedule. (1-2 weeks for a chapter.) That's probably not gonna last, though, considering I've got finals coming up, but fuck the police I'm writing what I can. 
> 
> Please save me from life, thanks.

“You’re going to be fine.” 

“... I know.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. It was a matter of time, really. I’m just glad that I don’t have to worry about it any longer.” 

“You’re not nervous?”

“Ha. That’s the understatement of the year.” 

“So you are nervous.” 

“Terrified.” 

“It’s really going to be okay, Makoto. They’re your parents.” 

“That’s kinda the problem though, isn’t it?” Makoto laughed humorlessly on the other end of the call, his voice slightly crackling from the static. He sounded exhausted. Sousuke wasn’t sure if that was because of the topic at hand, or the fact that Makoto had spent all of the night before with Gou, Hazuki, and Rei, showing them around campus and taking them out for noodles. Sousuke hadn’t, fortunately, been there to witness Gou and Hazuki’s reactions to when Makoto told them about their relationship, but he’d gathered that it had been pretty… explosive. He’d received maybe thirty text messages from Gou about it, (which had been mostly excited gibberish,) and ten from Rin, who’d been bombarded by Hazuki via phonecall. 

Makoto continued with a sigh, snapping Sousuke out of his thoughts. “I’ve got a lot to lose if this goes wrong.” 

“But it won’t,” Sousuke insisted. He gave a thankful nod to the barista behind the counter and scooped up his sealed cup with the hand not holding the phone to his ear, bringing it to his lips as he turned to settle on one of the couches of the cafe. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to talk, and they’re going to listen, and it will all turn out… just swell.” 

Makoto laughed softly. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be optimistic.” 

“What are you talking about? There is no ‘try’ involved. I am naturally optimistic.” 

“Mm-hm. And I’m naturally aggressive. And Haru hates water. And Rin’s never cried before.”

“Hey. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re trying to pick a fight with me,” Sousuke said, smiling against the rim of his cup. He leaned against the armrest, not bothering to push Pepper away when she leaped into his lap and curled into a tight ball. “Which isn’t a good idea, I’ll have you know. I could kick your scrawny ass, no problem.” 

“Oh? What makes you think that? You underestimate me,” Makoto said, humming in amusement. “I am the guy who you can’t beat in a race, after all.” 

“You can run, but you’re no match for my gigantic muscles,” Sousuke replied. “I could crush your head between my thighs, if I wanted to.” 

He could practically hear Makoto’s mischievous smile. “So you want my face between your legs, is what I’m hearing. Well, I can’t say that’s an unrealistic desire...” 

Heat immediately dropped to Sousuke’s stomach. He glanced around to make sure none of the other mingling customers had heard, chuckling to himself. “I’m in public, you animal.”

“Oh? That’s a shame,” Makoto mused. He laughed, his voice shifting into it’s raspy, sexy, ‘fuck-me-because-I-sound-like-a-hot-rockstar’ voice. “Wouldn’t want you to get a flustered in front of people, now would I? I’d hate to make you squirm.” 

“You’re awful.” 

Makoto hummed. “I won’t deny that.” 

“And here I thought I’d be the one in this relationship who’d need to be told to save it for the bedroom,” Sousuke teased. “Who would’ve expected it of Tachibana Makoto?” 

“I’m a blubbering mess a good portion of the time, but I find that I can pick and choose my moments.” 

“Oh, really? Any certain moments you have in mind?” Sousuke asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

Makoto chuckled. “Well, I don’t really keep an agenda…” 

Sousuke couldn’t help but smile. “What were we talking about?”

“Um… You crushing my head between your thighs, I think.” 

“No, no. Before that,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. He took a sip of his coffee, bringing his eyebrows together. “Oh, right. Your parents. I was being optimistic.” 

“Right,” Makoto said, his voice slipping back into his soft timbre. “It’s nerve-wracking. They’re either going to pretend like nothing is wrong, or they’ll passively interrogate me about my sexuality. It’ll probably be some hybrid of the both, actually. They have a weird way of doing that. I’m terrified, but the sooner I put this behind me, the better. Besides,” he paused, and Sousuke could hear the weak smile in his voice. “I’ll get to see them again. Them, and the twins. I’m terrified, but I really have missed them a lot.” 

“Well, that’s good.” 

“Yeah. And maybe… Maybe I’ll stop freaking out every ten minutes. Maybe something will get resolved in me, and I can go back to just freaking out about school.” He sighed. “The more I think about it, though, the less likely that seems. I’m kinda a mess, right now.” 

Sousuke winced. “You’re cute mess, at least.” 

“Aw. You’re sweet,” Makoto said, his voice catching with its trademark sincerity and innocent gratitude. That, coupled with his obvious exhaustion, just made Sousuke’s heart do a sad little thump. 

“Do you know when they’re coming to see you?” He asked, setting his coffee down on the table. He absently began stroking Pepper’s ears as he leaned back, inwardly feeling a tug of triumph when she didn’t nip at him or pull away in protest. After more than seven months, he was finally making progress with this stupid cat. “Rei wasn’t very clear about it.” 

“I’m really not sure. I have yet to hear from them, so they might have come with intentions to surprise me, or something. But from what Rei said last night, I’d guess around dinner time,” Makoto said. He paused. “Wait. Since when do you call Rei by his given name? I thought he was just ‘Ryuugazaki.’”

“We… had a stimulating conversation, a while ago.” 

“Hm. Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Alright then,” Makoto said, laughing. Sousuke could imagine him shaking his head fondly. “I’m just happy you’ve gotten on a first-name basis. I like you knowing my friends.”

“Well, we’re not exactly strangers…” 

“You know what I mean. Rei, Nagisa, and Haru are really important to me, and I’m glad that you are at least somewhat friendly with them. Because you’re pretty important to me, too.” He sighed. “And I know you’ve known Gou much longer than I have, but she’s still…. She’s still one of my most important friends, so it makes me happy to know that you two get along well.” 

“...Yeah,” Sousuke said, looking away. A twinge of guilt flared in his chest. When was the last time he’d actually talked to Gou? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real, private conversation with her. That was a little depressing, considering he thought of her as one of his closest friends. She’d been the one to tell him about Rin returning to Japan, but the contact between then had pretty much ended there, besides the occasional greeting. Even just the day before, they’d hardly said much to each other. Had she wanted to say more than what was said? Had he blown off her attempts at conversation without realizing it?

Damn. It was times like these that made him wonder how the hell he’d ended up with someone like Tachibana Makoto, who smiled at strangers who looked like they had guns in their pockets. 

“....Haru, too, but I guess that can’t be helped,” Makoto said, and Sousuke jolted, realizing that Makoto had continued talking. “But I appreciate the… weird understanding, you two have. Part of me kinda hopes the two of you will get closer, so we can all hang out together, but I’m perfectly happy with you and Haru just being civil with one another. That’s more than I could’ve hoped, really, considering your history.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” Sousuke said, clearing his throat. What were they talking about now? Something about Nanase. 

“You know, part of me can’t help but hope that this whole thing will turn out okay with my parents. I mean, for obvious reasons,” Makoto said. “They’re my parents, and I just want things to go back to the way they were before, when they trusted me and I trusted them. But I also am kinda praying that we’ll sort this all out so that they can meet you. Not as my friend, or that one guy from the dorms, or even that one kid who I competed against once upon a time, but as my boyfriend. I want it to be like the movies, where we all go out for dinner and they ask you questions about your life and tell you embarrassing stories about me, you know? It’s so cliche, and it’s a ridiculously far cry from whatever is happening now, but I can’t help but hope that it’s going to be like that, when you actually do meet them.” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke nodded absently. “That sounds really nice.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I want that, too,” he said. “I’m probably going to regret saying this, but I’d like nothing more than to meet your parents and have my ears be chatted off.”

“And have a lot food unceremoniously shoved towards you,” Makoto added. 

“Yeah, that too.”

“They probably won’t be very impressed with how slow you eat, though. You’re like a bird.”

“I’ll speed things along, if it’s really that important to them,” Sousuke said, smiling and rolling his eyes. “I’ll probably have a stomach ache later, but I’ll have made a good impression, so it’ll be worth it.”

“Aw, you’d sacrifice your health for me?” Makoto crooned. “You’re so sweet.” 

Sousuke’s smile widened. “I try.” 

“What about my siblings, though? Would you let them climb all over you, too?” 

“Uh, sure,” he said, bringing his eyebrows together. Did kids actually do that…? Or was Makoto speaking not literally? Gods, he needed to get around kids more often. “I could be a jungle gym for the day.” 

Makoto laughed. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it. They’ve been looking for a new victim, what with me out of the house.” 

“It’s a shame I don’t have any younger siblings, so you could return the favor,” Sousuke said. Pepper got to her paws on his lap and rubbed her head demandingly against his palm, mewling in irritation until he gave in and scratched her behind the ears. 

“You have an older sibling, though. I could befriend her,” Makoto offered. 

“Keiko?” Sousuke said, snorting. “She’ll either eat you up, or eat you alive, knowing her.” 

“I’ll take that chance. I’m really curious about your parents, too. How do you think they’ll react when they meet me?” 

Sousuke winced. “Uh… My mom will probably be pretty okay about it. She doesn’t really mind about that sort of thing. Knowing my dad, he’ll throw a little temper tantrum, but get over it. I don’t see him often enough for him to react too drastically.” 

“Does he know you’re bisexual?” 

“I haven’t told him directly, like I did my mom,” Sousuke said. He massaged his fingers around Pepper’s spine, and Pepper let out a grudgingly pleased purr. “I never really saw the point, since he wasn’t meeting any of the people I was dating.” 

“Fair enough.” Makoto gave an awkward little laugh. He paused, and they fell into a brief, comfortable silence. Sousuke took the opportunity to take another sip of his coffee, his hand momentarily leaving Pepper’s short, soft fur to bring the cup to his mouth. When Makoto spoke again, his voice was serious again, catching with uncertainty. “Sousuke. Do you… Do ever wish that I were a girl?” 

Sousuke forced himself to swallow, his shoulders stiffening. He lowered the cup and let out a short, humorless laugh. “Makoto, what kind of question is that?” 

“It’s j-just a question,” Makoto mumbled. “I sometimes wonder if everything would be easier if I were a girl, is all. I don’t know. If I were a girl, then I could introduce you to my family without worrying. And I guess I always kinda pictured you liking girls more than guys…? And you’re bisexual, so. Erm.” He cleared his throat. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Makoto,” Sousuke leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Pepper gave an annoyed mewl and wormed out of his lap, bounding off of the couch to slip under the coffee table. “I have never wished that you were a girl. Just because I’m bi-” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It was just a, uh, random thought I had. Just my anxiety-muddled brain coming up with weird stuff. It was a stupid question, honest.” 

“Hm. Okay,” Sousuke said hesitantly. He looked down at his feet, and swallowed. Fuck. What was he even supposed to say to that? “Um. You know, if you ever, like, wanted to be a girl, then you know that I’d totally be supportive, and your friends would probably be supportive, too-” 

“T-that’s not what I meant,” Makoto blurted, his voice an octave higher. He groaned. “Gods. D-don’t worry about it, okay? It was just me being paranoid.” 

Sousuke brought his eyebrows together. “Alright. You can talk to me about this sort of thing, you know. I’m not very good at talking, but I make a very good dummy.” 

Makoto laughed softly. “I know. It was just a little thought, I swear.” 

“Okay. Well, for the record, you’re a really hot guy,” Sousuke said, wincing at his awkward tone. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, you’re probably the hottest person I know. You have a really hot, masculine body, and a hot face, and a, um, hot personality…” He trailed off and finished with a groan, dragging his free hand down his face and scowling at nothing. “Fuck. You know what I mean. I like you in a really gay way, is what I’m trying to say. So don’t start thinking that I wish you were a girl. Because I don’t. You’re a guy, and that’s great. Better than great. It’s...” Sousuke grimaced. “It’s pretty rad.” 

Makoto didn’t say anything. Silence fell between them for a moment, before Makoto burst out laughing, the sound so sudden that it nearly blasted Sousuke’s eardrum out. He held the phone a little ways away from his ear, scowling as he felt heat rush up to his face. 

“S-Sousuke…” Makoto wheezed, his voice muffled and crackling through the speaker. “Oh m-my gods, that was probably the cutest-” He was cut off by another wave of laughter, and Sousuke glared down at the floor, his heartbeat in his cheeks. 

“Shut up,” he growled into the phone. “I was trying to be supportive.” 

“Y-you sounded so serious,” Makoto said through his uncontrollable giggling. He was obviously trying to cover it somehow, but it wasn’t working, considering that Sousuke could hear every chuckle and snicker he uttered. “D-did you just say you’re…” He let out another burst of laughter. “You like me in a really gay way? Oh, gods. Did you say that it’s ‘pretty rad?’” 

“You’re mocking me, and I don’t appreciate it,” Sousuke grumbled, huffing. “Excuse me for trying to be nice.” Makoto fell into another fit of giggling, and Sousuke set his jaw. “Oi. Stop it.” 

“It was cute enough as it was, but your deep voice just-”

“You’re an asshole.” 

Makoto just began uncontrollably laughing all over again, his bell-like voice hitching with wheezes and the faintest of snorts. Despite his frustration, Sousuke couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Dammit. Makoto’s laugh was really too adorable for its own good. 

“Oh, gods,” Makoto sighed, once he’d gotten a hold of himself. He let out a final, fond giggle. “You’re wonderful, Yamazaki Sousuke.” 

Sousuke’s heart did a happy little thump. He glowered at a fixed spot on the carpet, willing the heat in his face to fade. “Fuck you, Tachibana.” 

“Aw, that’s not very nice. Are you getting flustered, Sou?” 

“No.”

“Mm-hm,” Makoto hummed in amusement. “Hey, where are you? You finished your classes a half an hour ago, right?” 

“Yeah. Just figured I’d pick up some coffee before I came back up.” He’d actually been hoping to escape the impending doom of studying, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Makoto, the bonafide work-a-holic. He glanced outside, taking another sip of his coffee. It was still hot out, but a sharp wind was quickly making its way through the city. People out on the sidewalk struggled against it, their hoodies pulled up and their shoulders stiffened. “Do you want me to bring you up something?” 

“Yes, please. Could you get me an iced mocha? I’m craving something cold.” 

“Sure,” Sousuke said, standing. “I’ll be up in a sec.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” 

“Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

He hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket, sighing. 

\---000---

When he pushed the door of Makoto’s dorm open with his hip, two cups of coffee in his hands, he was greeted with a lovely view of Makoto bent over and reaching into the drawer of the bedside table. Sousuke couldn’t help a pleased smile at the sight of Makoto in sweatpants, that wonderfully perfect ass of his in the air as he shifted through the contents of the drawer. Damn. Makoto looked good in sweatpants. Granted, he looked good in everything, but something about the way that loose fabric hung on his hips made Sousuke’s heart skip a beat. 

As quietly as he could, Sousuke set the coffees on the desk to his side and crept up behind Makoto, careful to avoid stepping on anything that could make noise. Makoto didn’t look up as he approached, and continued grumbling to himself about finding a calculator, shoving the belongings in the drawer rather unceremoniously around. 

Biting back a snicker of anticipation, Sousuke reached forward and pinched Makoto’s ass through his sweatpants. He stumbled back as Makoto let out a yelp of surprise and shot up, his hand immediately flying back to cover his rear end. Makoto swivelled, his green eyes widened with horror, before the emotion was quickly replaced with an uncharacteristically intense rage. 

“Yamazaki Sousuke!” He snapped, his voice an octave higher, practically a squeak. Sousuke released the laugh he’d been holding. He scrambled away as Makoto lunged for him with a scarlet face, batting at him and spitting angrily. “Don’t you ever do that AGAIN! I nearly had a heart attack, you perverted jerk!”

“Hey, no hitting!” Sousuke protested. He lifted his arms in an attempt to shield his face, laughing despite himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself.” 

“Yes, you could’ve!” Makoto seized his wrists and tried to wrestle them away from his face, his attractive features screwed up in determined frustration. His wrinkled nose and deep pout only made Sousuke laugh harder. “Stop laughing, you big pervert!” 

“I’m not-” Sousuke managed, his face aching from smiling so wide. “I’m not a pervert.” 

“Yes you are,” Makoto insisted, huffing. “I thought you were some sort of intruder, sneaking up on me and grabbing at my ass like that!” His grip on Sousuke’s wrists tightened and he yanked Sousuke closer to him, before turning them around and forcing them both onto his bed. Sousuke let out a very unmanly yelp of surprise as his back collided with the mattress and he bounced. Makoto crawled over him, straddling his hips, and held his wrists down with one hand. The other seized Sousuke’s nipple through his shirt and twisted, and Sousuke let out a sharp whimper. 

“Ow! Owowow! Mako, OW!” 

“Admit that you’re a pervert and say sorry,” Makoto demanded. “I could’ve died of a heart attack, you jerk.” 

“I’m sorry!” Sousuke tried to wriggle away, but Makoto had his wrists and hips securely pinned, cutting off any chance of escape. He arched his back and whined as Makoto twisted his nipple harder. “Mercy!”

“Admit that you’re a pervert, Yamazaki.” 

“I’m a pervert! I’m a perv-yOW!” 

“That’s right,” Makoto agreed curtly. He released Sousuke’s wrists and nipple, folding his arms over his chest as he sat back on Sousuke’s lap. “That’s what you get, for pinching the butt cheeks of innocent citizens of the state.” 

Sousuke groaned and massaged the pectoral that had been under attack. “Ow. I think you bruised my nipple.” 

Makoto smiled. The little shit actually had the nerve to look pleased with himself. “Wuss.” 

“I’m a wuss, am I?” Sousuke reached up and pinched Makoto through his shirt, and Makoto yelped. He recoiled, his arms flailing in panic, and ended up flopping over on the bed beside Sousuke, his green eyes wide. Sousuke burst into laughter.

“You’re awful,” Makoto grumbled, a protective hand lingering over his chest in case Sousuke lunged again. “That pinch kinda hurt my butt, you know.” 

“Aw. Puppy,” Sousuke hummed. He shifted onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, reaching with the other hand to smooth Makoto’s bangs out of his face. “Want me to kiss it better?” 

Makoto scoffed. He gave Sousuke’s shoulder a shove. “You really are a pervert.” 

Sousuke shoved him back. “I’m just kidding.” 

“Mm-hm. Hey, did you get my mocha?” 

“It’s on the dresser.” 

“Thank you,” Makoto murmured, leaning forward to give Sousuke’s lips a peck. He sat up and wriggled off of the bed, before moving over to snatch the waiting drink. “Do you want your coffee?” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke forced himself into a sitting position and gave a soft smile of gratitude when Makoto gave him his own, lukewarm cup. Makoto plopped down beside him and took a sip of his mocha, his head drifting down to rest against Sousuke’s shoulder. His soft, long hair smelled suspiciously like Sousuke’s shampoo. “So. How was your day?” 

“It was okay. I mean, I’ve been thinking about the same thing for hours, but it was fine despite that,” Makoto mused between sips. He groaned. “Ugh. Let’s not talk about that. Tell me about your day.” 

Sousuke shrugged. “Not much to tell. I got a seventy eight on my japanese literature essay.” 

“That’s good!”

He pulled a face. “Not good enough, considering the amount of work I put into that bullshit.” 

“Hey, now. Japanese literature is all bullshit,” Makoto replied. “That’s why it’s so easy for some people, and so hard for others. It all depends on how good you are at bullshitting.”

“I suck at bullshitting, then.” 

“You’re a tactical thinker,” he said comfortingly, lifting his head from Sousuke’s shoulder and giving him a soft smile. “That’s why you’re so good at math and stuff. You’re better at being rational.” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “Does that make you a good bullshitter?”

Makoto’s smile widened. “Better than you, at least.” 

“I’m not sure if I should be happy with that or not,” Sousuke said with a sigh. He lifted a hand and brushed his thumb along the soft skin of Makoto’s bottom lip, the tip of his nail hovering over the marks Makoto’s teeth had left from gnawing on it. The pink flesh was softer than usual, raw from the layers of skin tugged off. Sousuke frowned. “You’ve been biting your lip more.” 

Makoto flushed and looked away. “Yeah. I don’t mean to. It’s just a… nervous tic, I guess.”

What a cute way of saying it was how he channelled his anxiety in hopes of distracting himself with the sting. Sousuke had noticed that about this little ‘nervous tic.’ When Makoto was anxious, his gaze grew distant, and he rolled his lip underneath his teeth and bit down on it as if it was the only thing that mattered. The more Sousuke thought about it, the more he was convinced that this was Makoto’s way of quietly punishing himself. “You’re biting it bloody.” 

“I know.” Makoto pulled away from his touch, his gaze remaining stubbornly trained on a fixed point at Sousuke’s collar. “I can’t help it. I only realize after I’ve scraped it all up.”

“Well, stop,” Sousuke grumbled. He tilted his head and pressed their lips together. Makoto’s shoulders relaxed. He sank into the kiss, his mouth parting obediently when Sousuke urged it open. Their tongues touched teasingly, and he smiled, breathing a puff of soft laughter against Sousuke’s lips. 

“I’ll try,” he murmured, and his voice was so dreamy and sweet that Sousuke’s heart clenched. 

“Good.” He tilted his head to kiss him again, and Makoto let out a soft sigh. 

When they parted, he studied Sousuke’s face through lowered, curled eyelashes, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. “You’re stunning, Yamazaki Sousuke.” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow, a flush creeping to his face. “Am I?” 

“Mm-hm. You know those people that you see on the street, or in restaurants, and you just think… ‘Gods, they are so beautiful.’ If that makes sense. You know, the kind of people that make you look twice, because something about them is just so striking and vibrant and lovely.” 

Sousuke gave a hesitant nod. “I guess…” 

“I’ve considered you as one of those people for a long time. From before we were friends, from before we even met again in that last year of high school. Every time I saw you, I just got a little more blown away by, well, you.” He cocked his head and smiled, studying Sousuke’s face lazily. “And when we became friends, I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘wow, I’m so lucky. Here I am, hanging out with this beautiful person, and finding out that he’s just as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. How often does that happen?’” 

Sousuke swallowed, at least 90% that his face would explode from heat if Makoto kept this up. “Mako-” 

“And now we’re together,” Makoto cut him off gently, putting a hand on his thigh. He leaned forward, their noses brushing. “And I get to touch you, and kiss you, and it still blows my mind that out of all the people in the world, you chose to be with me. How crazy is that?” 

“Nargh,” Sousuke groaned, turning his blushing face away. “Stop.” 

Makoto ignored his protests with a steadily growing smile. His thumb massaged Sousuke’s thigh in sleepy circles, creating a crater of heat through the fabric of his jeans. “You’re divine, Yamazaki Sousuke. Being with you makes me feel so selfish.” 

“...Selfish?” 

“Mm-hm. I want you all to myself. I see girls flirt with you, and I just…” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I get angry. It’s so awful of me to say, but it’s true. I never imagined I could be territorial of anything, but seeing people try to get to you just gives me this awful, envious feeling.” 

Sousuke coughed out a laugh. “Makoto, that doesn’t make you selfish. That makes you somebody in a new relationship.” 

“But seeing you with other people…” Makoto’s hand travelled higher up his thigh, making him shiver. “It makes me want to do stupid things. Like… I don’t know. Kiss you until you forget about everyone else. Until we both forget about everyone else.” 

“Never took you to be the possessive type,” Sousuke said, incredibly pleased when his voice came out low and steady. It was easier said than done, considering Makoto’s hand was cupping the inside of his thigh and moving steadily higher. “I wouldn’t mind, you know… If you threw me around a little bit. To distract me from everyone else, of course.” 

Makoto lifted an eyebrow and smiled a smile that was much too innocent. He tilted his head to the other side and hummed, his warm, mocha-smelling breath touching Sousuke’s cheek. “You want me to throw you around? That’s a little masochistic of you, isn’t it?” 

“Maybe a little,” Sousuke agreed, smirking. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to be rough with me? Or would you rather I be rough with you?” 

Makoto returned the smirk, and it was easily one of the most arousing actions to ever grace his attractive face. Sousuke actually began to wonder if that crooked smile trumped his own. Damn. He’d always prided himself in his smirk. “Depends on what you have in mind.” 

“Picky, are you?” 

“Maybe a little,” Makoto said, echoing Sousuke’s reply with a teasing wrinkle of his nose. “Isn’t that funny? Of all the things for me to be picky about…” 

Sousuke laughed. “Well, if you’re picky, then you might have to boss me around a little until I get a good idea of what you want.” He paused and pecked Makoto’s lips, letting their mouths dwindle against each other. “Captain Tachibana.”

“Shit,” Makoto breathed, and Sousuke made a mental note to use that again, because it took no time at all for Makoto to push him back onto the mattress and climb over him, kissing him sloppily. His heart thumping happily, Sousuke lifted his legs and wrapped them around his waist, hands snaking up to cup either side of Makoto’s face. Their breaths mingled as they sighed and panted into each other’s lips, and it all tasted so overwhelmingly of coffee that Sousuke began to question if he was actually making out with a giant mocha. 

“Ow,” Makoto pulled away and straightened, reaching back to tug Sousuke’s sneakers off. “Your shoes are digging into my back.” 

“Sorry,” Sousuke said. He let his legs relax, about to drop them from around Makoto’s hips, but Makoto caught his ankles and kept them in the air. 

“Don’t. I like it when you wrap your legs around me,” he said, and that little shit had the nerve to lick his pink, glossy lips as he said it. 

“Fuck,” Sousuke huffed. He lifted his hips to get a more secure grip around Makoto’s waist and pressed him down, forcing him to fall back into a kiss-available range. 

“You’re-” Makoto mumbled against him, his hot exhales turning Sousuke’s skin to fire. “Shit. You’re so-” 

“Stop talking,” Sousuke growled into his mouth. He silenced any further attempt at conversation by slipping his tongue stubbornly between Makoto’s lips, tracing his straight teeth with the tip. It was a real shame when Makoto decided to come up for air, forcing their mouths to separate with a wet, obscene smacking noise. Sousuke scowled up at him. “Why did you stop?” 

He smiled. “I have to breathe.” 

“Who has time for breathing?” Sousuke caught his face between his hands again and brought him back down, catching his bottom lip between his own and sucking gently. Makoto moaned, his voice a low, raspy rumble that quivered and resonated through Sousuke’s body like the curling purr of a cello. A calloused, firm hand slipped up the front of his shirt and settled against his pectoral. He couldn’t help a needy whimper and a buck of his hips when Makoto tweaked his nipple. His legs fell from around Makoto’s waist and spread instinctively, his jeans suddenly very tight and very strained. 

“Fuck me,” he growled softly between kisses. 

Makoto, impressively enough, didn’t so much as falter. He forced Sousuke’s lips further apart with his own, tilting his head to let their tongues play deeper and more thickly. It was all so horribly wet and arousing that Sousuke almost didn’t catch the reply breathed into his mouth. “Not now.”

“Why-mmf.” It was becoming increasingly hard to get words in as Makoto took control, dipping his head to practically mouth-fuck him. “Why not?” 

“Parents,” Makoto huffed, breaking away long enough to clip a short reply. “Siblings. Later.” 

Their lips clashed again, unrelenting and unavoidable, and Sousuke obliged to Makoto’s insistence willingly, his fingers curling in that soft, long hair. Makoto massaged his chest with the hand up his shirt, his fingers dragging down the tight skin of his stomach and pressing insistently into the dips and grooves of his abdomen. They settled on Sousuke’s belt and curled past his waistband and the elastic of his briefs, teasing the tufts of unshaven hair underneath, prompting a shallow moan. 

“Can I knock, mom?” a muffled, high voice said from outside the dorm door, and Sousuke probably wouldn’t have heard the little sound over the roaring in his ears if Makoto hadn’t pulled back so sharply that it was very possible the both of them got whiplash. 

“Go ahead,” a gentle feminine voice replied. Makoto’s eyes widened with unadulterated, horrified recognition. He scrambled off of Sousuke and got to his feet, clamping a hand over his mouth and looking to the door. Whoever had spoken knocked energetically on the wood. 

“Onii-chan! Onii-chan, are you home?” the high voice sang. The knocking intensified. “We’re here to surprise you!” 

“Shhh, Ren! It’s not a surprise if you announce it!” another child-like voice squeaked. “You have to wait for him to answer the door first, dummy.”

“Oh. Oops.”

Makoto and Sousuke exchanged a look. A panicked, frazzled look. 

‘Parents?’ Sousuke mouthed. Makoto gave a shaky nod, his face flushing. He batted at his hair, desperately trying to smooth it down. The long strands had been tousled from Sousuke’s fingers as they’d kissed, and judging by the awkward, stubborn angles they stuck out at, it wasn’t going to be tamed any time soon. (Not that Makoto’s hair was ever really tamed to begin with.) He smoothed his clothes, leaned over to smooth Sousuke’s, and dragged him to his feet before pushing him to sit on Tanaka’s bed. Sousuke flopped down on the mattress without complaint. His chest felt like it was constricting with terror. 

Fuck. He was really about to meet Makoto’s family, then. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Meeting the parents of a guy he was pretty sure he was in love with was intimidating enough. But, of course, theses specific parents also had to be homophobic. And meddlesome. And manipulative enough to make their own son feel as if he’d done something horribly wrong, just by coming out as pansexual. 

At this point, Sousuke was seriously considering making a break for it out the window. Regardless of the dizzying drop down to the ground. Maybe he could grab onto one of the hanging branches of the tree just outside. Shimmy down and crouch in a bush until it was safe to come back...

Makoto’s hand settling on his brought him back to reality. He looked up and met those familiar eyes, incredibly surprised to find them calm and comforting. Makoto gave him a soft smile and leaned forward to press their lips together in a chaste, reassuring kiss. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. His voice sounded as weak and shimmering as tinsel. 

Before the warmth of his touch could really settle against Sousuke’s skin, he pulled away and jogged casually to the door, pulling it open. Sousuke could only sit and try not to look too guilty as the warm light of the hallway flooded forward. 

“Onii-chan!” Two gangly kids, a boy and a girl, cried as they threw themselves at Makoto immediately, almost knocking him over. Makoto let out a startled yelp that somehow managed to turn to a pleased laugh as they wrapped their short arms around his waist. 

“Ran! Ren!” His voice, barely more than the nervous quiver of a violin just moments before, was suddenly loud and warm and welcoming. He crouched to gather the two kids up in a bear-hug. “What on earth are you two doing here, you crazy monkeys?” 

“We came to see you!” the girl, (Ran, Sousuke assumed,) replied. She beamed triumphantly at him, oblivious to his lack of genuine surprise. “Did we scare you?” 

Makoto gave her a wide, teasing smile that could shame a meadow of sunflowers. “Definitely. I nearly peed my pants in fright.” 

“Ew!” Ren said, wrinkling his little nose. He giggled and threw his arms around Makoto’s neck, tucking his face into the crook of his throat. “We missed you so, so, SO much, Onii-chan!” 

Makoto laughed. A perfect, comforting, light-hearted laugh that made Sousuke’s entire body warm up with affection. He hugged the twins so tight that they squeaked. “I missed you, too.” 

“Makoto,” a deep, oddly familiar voice spoke from further out in the hallway. Makoto’s father stepped forward and held out a hand to help him back to his feet, smiling warmly. He was a tall man, probably around Sousuke’s height, with short, chocolate-colored hair, glasses, and tawny eyes. 

“Dad,” Makoto breathed. He audibly swallowed and paused, before taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. Mr Tachibana didn’t hesitate to sweep his son up in a bone-crushing hug as soon as they were at eye-level, prompting a yelp. 

“It’s so good to see you!” Mr Tachibana said. He held Makoto out at arm’s length and inspected him with a wide grin. “Were you always this tall? I could’ve sworn you were a foot shorter when you left.” 

Makoto laughed weakly. “Dad, I think I’m getting a little too old for those sort of comments.” 

Mr Tachibana chuckled. “Maybe you are.” 

“Makoto,” a warm, feminine voice said, and Sousuke leaned forward to get to catch a glimpse of Mrs Tachibana at her husband’s side, beaming. She was, surprisingly enough, a tiny woman that barely came up to her husband’s bicep. Her dark hair fell in curls around her face, framing a pair of very familiar droopy green eyes that shone with affection. A splattering of freckles on her nose was the only thing to interrupt her porcelain skin. She was gorgeous. Tiny enough to fit inside Sousuke’s pocket, sure, but undeniably beautiful in the softest way possible. 

Looking at Makoto with his parents was like looking at a flawless example of the magic of genetics. Makoto was the perfect sum of his parents: his mother’s eyes, freckles, and smile, and his father’s height, tan, and face shape. The only thing that really stood out as Makoto’s and Makoto’s alone was his hair, which was considerably lighter than the rest of his family’s. 

Makoto melted into a smile that was either genuinely relaxed or very convincing. “Mom.” 

“C’mere,” Mrs Tachibana held out her arms. Makoto only hesitated for a moment before bending down and wrapping her up in an embrace that looked soft enough to overwhelm a litter of puppies. Mrs Tachibana stood on her tiptoes and closed her eyes, stroking the short strands at the back of Makoto’s neck. She hummed happily. “My baby.” 

It was all so undeniably gentle and reverent that Sousuke was almost tempted to look away, out of fear of intruding. 

“You’re so skinny!” Mrs Tachibana exclaimed when Makoto drew away. She patted him down, her green eyes wide. “What have you been eating? Sunflower seeds?” 

Makoto winced. “....Ramen and granola bars, mostly.” He laughed weakly at her horrified expression. “Mom, it’s really fine. I’ve actually gained weight since I started school.”

“You have?” Ren said, blinking incredulously. He lifted Makoto’s shirt to check his toned stomach. “You don’t look like you have. Your tummy is still muscular.” 

“Not like it was before, though,” Makoto said. He tugged his shirt down, his ears tinged pink. “I’m, erm, not as chiselled.” 

“Your hair got really long, too!” Ran piped up.“You look like a girl!” 

Sousuke followed her gaze, realizing with a jolt that she was right. Makoto’s hair had gotten considerably longer since the beginning of the first semester. It was probably long enough to pull into a small ponytail, if he swept it back. 

Mr Tachibana frowned. “You haven’t gotten a haircut since the year began, then. I thought we sent you money for that.” 

“W-well, yeah, but I decided it would be better to use it for something else. Like…” Makoto winced. “Pencils and notebooks, or something.”

Mrs Tachibana got a knowing look. “You’re still scared of scissors around your face, aren’t you?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“No matter,” she chirped, waving dismissively. “We’ll take you out to get something new tomorrow. You have to show me all around the city anyways, so we might as well.”

“Oh, actually-” 

“Who are you?” Ran demanded, pointing a finger at Sousuke. Sousuke blinked in surprise at being addressed. He’d gotten caught up in watching the family interact to wonder if he should give a greeting. 

“Oh, r-right,” Makoto mumbled. He cleared his throat, his cheeks pinkening. “Um, this is Yamazaki Sousuke. He’s…” He trailed off, his blush intensifying. Thankfully his parents seemed too interested in studying Sousuke to notice. “I, erm, met him in high school…?” 

Sousuke lifted a stiff hand in greeting and gave a little nod. “Hi.” 

“Hello,” Mr Tachibana returned, dipping his head in greeting. He smiled wider and moved to clasp hands with him. “I’m Makoto’s father, Tachibana Vada. You two met in high school? Funny, that Makoto never mentioned you before now. You’re his friend, then?” 

“Uh, yeah.” That was one way of putting it. Friends totally fell asleep in the same bed regularly, whispered about how much they liked each other at weird hours of the night, made out so often that it might be considered unhealthy, groped each other, gave each other mind-blowing blowjobs… 

Makoto must’ve been thinking something along those lines as well, because he looked away when Sousuke snuck a glance towards him, his cheeks pink. 

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Yamazaki-kun,” Mrs Tachibana said, flashing him a sugar-powdered smile that made him want to buy her a bouquet of flowers. Honestly. It was like meeting Makoto all over again. Just… without the sexual attraction. “What a small world it must be, for the two of you to meet again in the middle of Tokyo. Are you Makoto’s roommate?” 

“He actually lives a floor up,” Makoto said. 

“I see. How convenient. You two must do a lot of studying together, then.” 

Amongst other delightful things…

Sousuke inwardly slapped himself. For fuck’s sake. His mind was descending into the gutter at a horrific speed, it seemed. Like just talking to Makoto’s parents was forcing him to reflect on every little intimate thing they’d done together since going out. Oh gods, if the Tachibanas ever found out about the night they’d originally gotten together… The mere thought made Sousuke want to cover his head and duck between his legs in shame and embarrassment. 

“...your major?” Mrs Tachibana asked, and Sousuke realized with a jolt she’d continued talking through Sousuke’s self-scolding. 

“Um, I’m majoring in business,” he said, praying to the heavens that had been the right reply to her question. 

“Really? I studied business, as well,” she said, grinning. “Lots of work, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke nodded and tried for a smile that didn’t completely give away his thought process. “But it keeps me occupied.” 

Mr Tachibana laughed. “That’s better than nothing, I suppose.” He turned to Makoto. “Well, we were planning to take you out for some real dinner with the twins. You think you can spare the night to spend some time with your embarrassing family?”

“Yeah, come eat dinner with us!” Ran chirped, tugging at Makoto’s sweatpants. “Mom already picked a place. There’s green curry!” 

Makoto’s pupils seemed to literally dilate at the mention of his favorite food. He licked his lips and glanced hopefully up at his parents, all hesitance momentarily forgotten. “...Curry?” 

Mrs Tachibana beamed. “Yup. I looked up the place on the train-ride here. It has four stars, and their green curry dish is especially spicy, according to reviews.” 

Makoto looked like he was in serious danger of drooling, and Sousuke felt a twinge of jealousy. The two of them hadn’t had anything truly, properly well-made in months. The mere mention of his favorite food at its spiciest probably had Makoto reeling. 

“Well, we can’t go anywhere unless you get dressed,” Mrs Tachibana said, laughing lightly. She glanced around the messy dorm with her hands on her hips and huffed. “This is a disaster, by the way. How do you manage to tell what’s clean and what’s dirty?” 

Makoto offered a weak smile. “...Sniff test?” 

Mr Tachibana let out a hearty laugh at the repulsed expression on his wife’s face. “Relax, Aito-chan. It’s college. They’re meant to be able to live in their own filth until they get fed up with it.” 

Mrs Tachibana huffed again and picked her way over to the dresser, sliding a drawer open. She grumbled as she sorted through it, and Sousuke smiled fondly despite himself. Not twenty minutes before had Makoto been doing something very similar. 

“Yamazaki-kun, why don’t you come with us?” Mr Tachibana asked, tilting his head and smiling a friendly smile. “We’d love to get to know a new friend of Makoto’s better.” 

“U-um, I don’t know,” Sousuke mumbled. “I really don’t want to intrude on your dinner.” 

“No, you should come!” Ran piped up. She scampered forward and took his hand, bouncing on her heels. “Come try the spicy green curry with us! Ren always cries, so having somebody else along will make him feel better.” 

Ren bristled, his cheeks flushing. “I do not! You’re the one that always needs a glass of milk!” 

“That’s because I’m not stupid and beg for one later!” 

“Alright, you two,” Mrs Tachibana said with a sigh. She threw a pair of pants and a clean t-shirt towards Makoto, who caught them with one hand, before turning to Sousuke. “You should come, Yamazaki-kun. Our treat, for a friend of Makoto’s.” 

“I really shou-” 

“Come, Sou,” Makoto blurted. When Sousuke met his gaze, his green eyes were soft and pleading. “I mean… If you want to. But you should take advantage of free food, right? And it’d be nice if you got to know my family. Just dinner, right?” 

Sousuke blinked, the gears in his head clicking into place. Right. His presence would probably be comforting for Makoto, who didn’t seem all that keen on being alone with his parents. The mere realization made his chest constrict with frustration and sympathy. 

He nodded in defeat, and Makoto’s shoulders immediately relaxed. “Yeah, alright. Since you’re insisting.” 

Mrs Tachibana brightened. “Great! It’s a pleasure to have you along, Yamazaki-kun.” 

“Sousuke’s fine,” he replied weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“No problem at all.” Mr Tachibana waved him off good-naturedly. He took Ran and Ren’s hands and shooed them back out into the hallway, despite their protests at having their exploring interrupted. Mrs Tachibana followed close behind, casting another disgusted look over her shoulder at the dorm. “C’mon, Tachibanas. Let’s let the boys change, and then we can all pile into the car and go while there’s still some hours left in the day.” 

The door clicked behind them, and Sousuke and Makoto both let out an exhale of relief in unision. 

“Thank you,” Makoto murmured. He looked down at the ground as he slipped his shirt off and pulled the clean one over his head, his cheeks carrying some leftover pink. “I’m sorry, that I got you tangled up in all this. But I really do appreciate you coming. It… It’ll help.” 

Sousuke brought his eyebrows together. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I feel like I do,” Makoto said. He let out a soft laugh, hooking the waistband of his sweatpants and tugging them down, being wriggling into a pair of jeans. “I’m so nervous. Even now, when we didn’t even say anything besides ‘hello,’ I felt like I was going to die of shame. It really didn’t help that all I could think about was giving you a blowjob…” 

Sousuke cracked a smile. “You were thinking about that, too?” 

“Yes.” Makoto groaned and dragged a hand down his face, smiling against his palm. “This is going to be so embarrassing. And nerve-wracking.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Sousuke said. He couldn’t help but smile despite himself as he slipped closer and let his hands drift to Makoto’s hips, the warmth of their bodies drifting close to another a sharp spark of reassurance. “I’ve got your back.” 

“Thank you.” Makoto’s expression softened to something so undeniably thankful and weak that it made Sousuke’s heart ache. He cupped Sousuke’s biceps and pulled him in for a tiny kiss, his breath still tasting of sweet mocha. “I swear, the longer I date you the more I’m convinced I don’t deserve you.” 

“That is a whole load of bullshit,” Sousuke stated. 

Makoto smiled. “It doesn’t feel like it.” 

“Well, it is.” 

“You know, modesty doesn’t suit you, Sousuke,” Makoto teased. He stepped back and nodded to the door, giving Sousuke’s ass a couple encouraging pats. “C’mon, let’s go suffer together.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANGST. AnGST? aNGSt! (I'm only half sorry :'D)

“This car is tiny,” Makoto said with a huff, as Ran wriggled onto his lap so Ren and Sousuke could have the neighboring seats. He spat out some of her hair and craned his head to look up at the front row, where Mr and Mrs Tachibana were seated side by side. “Didn’t you guys take the train here?” 

“Well yes, but we decided to rent a car for a couple of days, to make things easier,” Mrs Tachibana replied. She twisted in the driver’s seat to help Ren, who had started whining about his locking seatbelt. 

“‘To make things easier,’” Mr Tachibana repeated her words grumpily, fixing his own buckle. “Sure doesn’t feel that way, considering the amount of yen a couple days of rental costs.” 

Mrs Tachibana rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. You know perfectly well that I’m not taking the kids on one of those horrible city subways. We’d be squashed flat.” 

Ren nodded in fretful agreement. “All the people make me nervous.” 

“Baby,” Ran accused, sending him a teasing smile. 

“I am not!” 

“Ran,” Mr Tachibana warned with a tired sigh. “Don’t call Ren a baby. That’s rude.” 

“It’s true, though,” Ran grumbled, looking pointedly out the window. 

“You’re one to talk,” Makoto said lightly, intervening with a gentle voice per usual. He poked her in the ribs, prompting a squeal. “You’re sitting in my lap, after all. Like an itty bitty baby.” 

“Onii-chan, don’t!” she cried, giggling as he poked her again. She tucked her hands under her armpits protectively. “Don’t tickle!” 

Makoto’s smile widened. “Don’t tickle? What do you mean, ‘don’t tickle?’ You mean like this?” 

He attacked her sides, his slender fingers ruthlessly wriggling. She yelped and burst into uncontrollable, high laughter, her back arching and her legs stretching out in protest. Makoto snickered. He took a deep breath and blew a huge raspberry against her little neck, which effectively made her squeal and writhe more, tears coming to her eyes. Makoto laughed with her, his fingers stilling and allowing her to flop back in giggly exhaustion. 

Sousuke’s blood thrummed with overwhelming affection. He and Makoto locked eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. His smile must not have looked very idiotic to Makoto though, because he quickly glanced away, his cheeks flushing pink. 

“Alright, settle down back there,” Mrs Tachibana said with a fond chuckle. She turned the car on, and the engine spluttered to life. “Next stop: green curry.” 

“Yes!” Ran and Ren crowed and pumped their fists in the air. 

“Sousuke-kun, do you like green curry?” Mr Tachibana asked over his shoulder. “It’s a family favorite of ours.” 

“Uh… I think.” Sousuke offered an apologetic smile. “It’s been a while since I had anything other than ramen or a school lunch. Or something that I made myself, really.”

“Your mom never made you some?” 

“She’s… never been big on cooking,” he said. Which was true. Kano was a disaster in the kitchen. For the majority of Sousuke’s childhood she’d given him money for school lunches or pizza dinner, offering half-hearted apologies and excuses for work along with it. It was his older sister Keiko who eventually started teaching him how to make his own food when he was about ten. She took frequent culinary classes at school and had a weird knack for remembering recipes after skimming over them once, so to Sousuke, she was a fountain of information. Their shared love for cooking was one of the only things they had ever been able to successfully bond over.

Some of his fondest memories were in the kitchen, quietly working at Keiko’s side or bickering with her about using cream cheese instead of yogurt in a batch of thick sugar cookies. She’d always won their arguments, but when it was cooking, Sousuke didn’t mind that much, because they both ended up with something filling anyways. 

“Well, today the curry’s on us,” Mrs Tachibana said, smiling warmly at the street. She turned a corner a tad too forcefully, and everyone in the back seat slid to the slide. Ren let out a startled yelp as he was pushed against Sousuke’s arm, his face flushing. 

“Aito-chan,” Mr Tachibana warned in a tired voice. “Not so sudden. You’re going to kill the children.” 

“This is Tokyo,” Mrs Tachibana replied simply. “You have to drive a little recklessly. Did you not see that bus back there? He would’ve rammed into me if I hadn’t turned the way I did.” 

Mr Tachibana sighed and massaged his temple. 

“Sorry,” Ren mumbled at Sousuke’s side, righting himself in his seat. He avoided Sousuke’s gaze with pink cheeks. 

Sousuke tried for a comforting smile. “It’s fine. Not your fault.”

“Why is your face so red?” Ran demanded from Makoto’s lap, blinking down at Ren. “You look like Onii-chan when a pretty girl talks to him.” 

Ren bristled. “S-shut up!”

“Sou-kun’s not a pretty girl, dummy.” 

“I k-know! I’m not-” 

“Your face is getting redder.” 

Ren whined, his round cheeks scarlet. “Ran, stop!” 

Makoto chuckled. He caught Sousuke’s eye and gave him a wink, mouthing, ‘he likes you.’ Sousuke just rolled his eyes and fought a smile. 

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad afterall. 

\---000---

“Onii-chan, sit by me!” 

“No, sit by me! She got to sit in your lap, so it’s my turn. Fair’s fair!” 

“C’mon, Ren, you can sit on his lap on the way back!”

“No, I want to sit by him now!”

Sousuke couldn’t help a chuckle as the twins pulled at Makoto’s arms, using him as an overgrown tug-of-war rope. Makoto just smiled weakly, looking torn between being annoyed and happy at his siblings’ attention. “Guys, maybe-” 

“Ran, Ren, I think Makoto should sit with his friend, don’t you?” Mrs Tachibana said. She slid into the restaurant's booth to sit at her husband’s side, who was already opening the menu and looking through it. “You can both sit by Makoto when we go out for lunch tomorrow.” 

Ran and Ren both whined in protest but were interrupted by Makoto’s gentle, reassuring tone. “That sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it? I promise I’ll sit by you both all the way through tomorrow, if that’s what you’d like.” 

Ran and Ren exchanged a grudging look before both nodding in defeat. “Fine.” 

“Great.” His shoulders relaxing, Makoto slid into the other booth, up against the window. He smiled up at Sousuke and patted the spot next to him. Sousuke obediently moved to plop down. Painfully aware of Mr Tachibana’s eyes on him, he made sure to keep himself from touching Makoto more than it could be helped. Ran scrambled into the spot at his side and Ren moved to sit with his parents, pouting bitterly. 

“Alright, let’s take a look,” Mrs Tachibana hummed as she opened her own menu. “I think they have different options for spiciness and sweetness. I’ll probably go with the spiciest, since Tokyo curry always ends up sweet, anyway.” 

Mr Tachibana nodded in agreement. “Should we start with an appetizer? The gyoza here looks pretty good. We could also get a serving tsukune…” 

The twins and Makoto perked up in perfect unison, nodding in hurried approval. Sousuke swallowed in an attempt to keep himself from drooling at the mention of tsukune. Fuck. It really had been too long since he’d eaten anything decent. 

“Sousuke-kun, feel free to take a look as well,” Mrs Tachibana said cheerily. She held out her menu for him to take and offered a warm smile to go along with it. “Don’t feel pressured by these batch of enthusiasts to get just curry, either. Anything on the menu is yours for the taking.” 

“Thank you,” Sousuke mumbled. “Really, this is too generous-”

“Not at all, not at all,” Mrs Tachibana said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Your protesting only makes me want to treat you more, Sousuke-kun. If there’s one thing that will convince my husband and I of anything, it’s politeness.” 

Sousuke let out a puff of laughter. “So I should be rude if I want you to spare your kindness?” 

“If you’re going to be that extreme,” Mrs Tachibana agreed with a warm giggle. 

“You, rude?” Mr Tachibana scoffed. “I don’t think so, Sousuke-kun. So far you’ve proven yourself to be nothing short of a gentleman.”

Makoto snorted, putting a hand over his mouth to shield his laughter. Sousuke gave him a pointed look and nudged him under the table. “Oi. What are you laughing at?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” Makoto said, smiling wide. “I’m just… so overwhelmed by what a perfect gentleman you are, Sousuke.” 

“Shut up.” Sousuke nudged him again and glared at the menu, which only made Makoto laugh more. 

“Makoto,” Mr Tachibana said, once his son’s snickering had ceased. His expression had grown serious. He crossed his arms on the table surface and leaned forward expectantly, his head tilted in that oh so familiar puppy-dog way. “While it’s on my mind, I do believe there’s something you need to update me on.” 

Makoto’s smile faltered. He sat up a little straighter under his father’s gaze like a dog having its leash tugged in warning. “Um. Right.” 

Sousuke looked between the two of them, frowning in confusion. He glanced to Mrs Tachibana for some sort of reassurance of what was happening, but she’d turned to scold Ren about pouring salt on the table and wasn’t paying attention to the suddenly serious exchange between her husband and eldest son. 

Mr Tachibana held a broad, tan hand out and turned it so his palm was facing the ceiling. A silent demand for Makoto to place something there, no doubt. “Writing.” 

Makoto swallowed. He offered him an apologetic, genuine, closed-lipped smile. The kind that would buy him a day’s extension on any assignment from any professor. “My notebook’s at the dorms.” 

Mr Tachibana didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “You’re not carrying it with you?” 

“I… I don’t have as much pocket room as I used to,” Makoto offered weakly. “It’s not like I’ve stopped writing, or anything. Remember when I told you about the slam poetry cafe-” 

“Makoto, what have I always said about keeping a notebook handy?” he said with a sigh, retracting his hand. “I’ve been pleased beyond belief about the cafe. Really, couldn’t be prouder of you. But how can you expect to get anywhere if you’re not prepared at the drop of a hat?” He gave him an insistent look, the kind of look that had graced Makoto’s eyes many a time when he’d been talking about something he was passionate about. “Inspiration is slow to come and quick to leave. You have to grab whatever you can, wherever you can. How can you expect to exercise talent if you’re not always prepared to act?”

Makoto dropped his gaze. “Sorry.” 

His father’s eyes softened. “Just don’t make a habit of it, alright? I’m not asking you to be a novelist, or anything. You’ve chosen what you want to do with your life, and that’s fantastic, but being able to write is something that will help you for years and years to come. Hell, look at me. When I was your age I was majoring in aviation. Aviation, Makoto. That’s about as far from creative writing as you can get.” He sat back and smiled. “And look where I ended up. A published author in more than seven languages. That’s not bad, son.” 

“I know, dad,” Makoto said, nodding. He returned the smile tightly. “I get it.” 

“I know you do,” Mr Tachibana said. “When we drop you off tonight, I’d like to look through your notebook. Skim through your creative vomiting a little.” 

Makoto didn’t visibly react, but Sousuke could practically feel his sharpened panic. The newly realized dread seemed to pulse in the places where they touched, and Sousuke’s stomach immediately sank. 

Makoto’s writing. His poems about Sousuke. 

Fuck. 

Mr Tachibana continued on his ‘motivational’ rave, and Sousuke and Makoto exchanged a glance. A knowing, panicked glance. Makoto’s pinky found his and curled around it, and Sousuke wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant to be reassurance or confirmation that they were doomed. Probably some hybrid of the two, really. Their silent wallowing was interrupted by Mrs Tachibana, however, who began asking the both of them how their studies had been going in the past semester. Underneath the table, their pinkies remained curled around one another. 

The waitress came a few minutes later to take their orders. Ran and Ren both enthusiastically requested chocolate milk and curry. Mr Tachibana, Mrs Tachibana, and Makoto all ordered water with theirs, and Sousuke asked for a coke. He figured he might as well try the curry too, since the Tachibanas seemed so keen on it. The waitress left with a warm smile and a touch of color in her cheeks, glancing back for a sliver of a moment at Makoto, who had started running his hand absently through his long hair. 

“Is it really that long?” he asked. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and pouted. “I thought it’d always been this length.” 

“No, it’s definitely longer,” Mrs Tachibana said. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You look like some sort of American surfer.” 

He winced. “Is… that a bad thing?” 

“Not if you want to look scruffy and unkempt.” 

“Well, my hair’s never exactly been easily tamed, anyways…” 

“No excuses. You’re getting a haircut tomorrow,” Mrs Tachibana said stiffly, straightening in her seat. “I’ll cut it with safety sisters myself, if I have to.” 

“You should shave your head!” Ran piped up. 

Ren’s eyes widened. “No, don’t! That would look awful!”  
“Maybe Sousuke-kun’s length?” Mr Tachibana suggested, nodding to Sousuke. “That’s a much more appropriate look for university than what you’re sporting now, Makoto.” 

“I’ve actually been meaning to cut it shorter,” Sousuke said. He instinctively lifted a hand to run his fingers through his short hair. “I like it out of my face most of the time.”

“Well, it’s different for you,” Makoto grumbled, patting self-consciously at the stray tufts sticking up on his own head. “You’ve got a nice face, so you look good with short hair...” He seemed to realize what he’d said and cleared his throat, finishing weakly. “...Man.” 

Sousuke was caught between wincing and letting out a burst of laughter at the obvious awkwardness in his boyfriend’s voice. He settled with curling his lips in and trying not to react too visibly. Makoto scowled and nudged him under the table. 

“I agree,” Mrs Tachibana said, and she thankfully seemed to buy the awkward bit Makoto had added. “Sousuke-kun has a good face for short hair. But Makoto, you do too. I think you’d look dashing with something shorter.” 

Makoto glanced away, his ears tinged pink. “You’re just saying that because you’re my mother.” 

“I don’t know, that pretty waitress would probably agree with her,” Mr Tachibana said with a mischievous smile. 

Makoto blinked at him in confusion. “H-huh?” 

Sousuke rolled his eyes, and the Tachibanas exchanged an amused look as Ran bounced in her seat, smiling wide. “Onii-chan, you’re so stupid sometimes! That waitress was totally looking at you all lovey-dovey. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gave you her number after we leave.” 

Makoto spluttered, his face flushing. “Ran!” 

Ran giggled and squished her cheeks together, making a kissy face. “She wants to smooch you, Onii-chan! Smooch, smoochy, smoochity!” 

“Shh!” Makoto held a finger to his lips and glanced apologetically at the people who’d turned to look in their direction. Their waitress, who was serving another table, looked up too with a perplexed expression. Makoto hurriedly turned away and stared down at his lap. “N-not so loud, Ran.” 

Ran giggled in triumph. She held up a hand to Sousuke for a high-five, and Sousuke smiled and obliged. His fondness for this kid was increasingly growing. 

“Well, Makoto?” Mr Tachibana asked. He leaned forward to give his blushing son a teasing smirk. “If Ran’s prediction comes true and the waitress does give you her number, will you call her? She’s very pretty, after all. And I have to say, your mother and I have been a little disappointed with the lack of dating stories coming from you.” 

Sousuke swallowed. He curled his hands into fists under the table and glanced at Makoto, waiting for his answer. Makoto fidgeted for a moment before answering weakly. “W-well, no. I don’t think so. I’m… not really looking to date anyone new right now. What with school, and swimming…” 

Mrs Tachibana brought her glass to her lips and cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Funny. I could’ve sworn you mentioned being attracted to everyone a while ago.” 

The entire world seemed to flinch with Sousuke. Like the universe had decided to lock up at her blandly stated, cutting words. He clenched his fists tighter and glared down at the table, feeling his nails make crescent moons in his palms. Makoto made a soft noise in his throat that seemed to be some sort of mix between a whimper and a grunt. He took a shaking breath before speaking.

“T-that’s not… That’s not what I meant when I told you guys…” he said. “I… erm. Not e-everybody…”

“Oh? I’m sorry, dear,” Mrs Tachibana said, laughing lightly. “I suppose I still don’t really understand what you meant when you told us about it.” 

“Yeah, it was a little vague, don’t you think?” Mr Tachibana added. He chuckled, as if it were all incredibly amusing. “You had a word for it, too… One of those new terms. What was it, dear?” 

Mrs Tachibana gave an exaggerated pout. “Hm. I can’t remember. It isn’t that new, surely. The term was around when I was young, but it was more of a slur, really. Or at least in our town. I was under the impression that it still was. Maybe things are different in the city…” She gave Makoto a curious look. “What was it you called yourself?” 

“Pansexual,” Makoto replied in a weak voice. His ears were red enough to stop the worst traffic Tokyo had to offer. 

She nodded knowingly. “Oh, right. Yes, now I remember. My dad used the term often. Never fondly, though.”

“My uncle was similar,” Mr Tachibana said. “He’d call his ex-wife that during his drunken nights alone, along with other words not worth mentioning at the dinner table.” 

“Yeah. But from what you said about it, Makoto, it doesn’t seem like your definition is all that different,” Mrs Tachibana said. “You described it like being sexually attracted to everyone, didn’t you? So it’s the same word, the same definition, but just in a different context.” She laughed. “It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How differently words can be used, just based on the situation or location.” 

“Where did you come across the term, anyways?” Mr Tachibana asked. He leaned forward on the counter, eying his son. “I don’t think we ever used it in our home. Are they teaching you this sort of thing in one of your courses? Or did you find it through friends?” 

“I… more or less found it on my own,” Makoto mumbled, “Through the internet.” 

Mrs Tachibana lifted her eyebrows. “Really? So it was a self-discovery situation.”

“Y-yeah. But I’d always…. Erm.” 

“Been sexually attracted to everyone?” Mr Tachibana finished for him in a flat voice. Despite the smile fixed determinedly on his face, his eyes had darkened. Sousuke swallowed hard. “And what’s that like? How did you come to that conclusion?”

“N-not everyone,” Makoto insisted, “Just… anyone, I guess…?” 

“Anyone? Really?” Mrs Tachibana’s eyebrows went up to her bangs. She let out a puff of laughter. “So, anyone in this restaurant could…?”

“N-no!” Makoto stiffened, his face flushing pink. “No, not really anyone, I just mean-”

“But you said anyone, didn’t you? You’re contradicting yourself.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll explain, j-just give me a chance to reply.” 

“We are. Makoto, you don’t seem very sure of yourself, here,” she said, bringing her eyebrows together. “I’m beginning to wonder how familiar you really are with the term.” 

“I AM familiar with the term,” Makoto insisted, “It’s just...hard to explain.” 

“Why is it so hard to explain?” Mr Tachibana pressed, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Is sexuality something that’s usually hard to explain? I wasn’t aware it was.” 

“I’m just trying to help you understand.” 

“What is there to understand?”

“I don’t know, you obviously aren’t getting it, so-”

“We’re not?” Mrs Tachibana leaned forward. “Makoto, what exactly is there to get?”

Makoto’s expression hardened. “W-would you let me finish, please?” 

“It’s kind of hard to, dear. You’re stuttering an awful lot, and I have questions-”

“Which I’ll answer in a second. Just hold on and let me-”

“Let you what, Makoto?” Mr Tachibana said calmly. He gave Makoto a sympathetic look, as if he were a kid struggling through an excuse. “Do you need a second to think through your replies?” 

Makoto’s green gaze sharpened into a glare. The rare, blood-curdling glare that Sousuke had only witnessed a couple occasions before. “No, you two are just bombarding me with questions and assumptions. How can you expect me to answer you seriously when you’re making a show of overwhelming me in public?” 

“We’re making a show?” Mrs Tachibana asked. Her own emerald eyes hardened, despite the smile fixed on her face. “Makoto, we’re just asking you questions about this. Is it that fragile of a subject?”

“No,” Makoto insisted, “But this is feeling more like an interrogation than a conversation.”

“An interrogation?” Mrs Tachibana echoed. “We’re not trying to interrogate you, dear.” 

Makoto threw his hands up in exasperation, his voice sharp. “Then what are you doing? Why does this have to warrant such masked scrutiny?”

Mr Tachibana’s blank look slipped into a stern frown. “You’re not being straight with us, and-”

“I’ve been trying to be straight with you two from the beginning. Why do you think I told you in the first place?” Makoto’s voice broke. “Why does my sexuality have to be such a big deal?” 

“You’re the one blowing this out of proportion.”

“Then why are you interrogating me?”

“We’re not.”

“Yes, you-”

“Um, mom?” Ran interrupted hesitantly, and her little voice was like a knife cutting through the tension swarming the table. Sousuke released a furious breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and glanced down at her. Her little eyebrows were drawn together, a slightly panicked expression on her round face. “I… I don’t really get it. Why are you guys shouting?” 

“People are looking,” Ren added, the words barely audible. 

The three oldest Tachibanas softened in unison, as if the voices of the twins had flipped a switch in all of them. Sousuke could feel Makoto’s muscles unravel at his side, the tightness in his face fading to guilt. Their gazes met for a moment, before Makoto let out a hard sigh and looked away. His hand shook against Sousuke’s. 

“It’s okay, guys,” Mrs Tachibana said. She soothed Ren’s hair and planted a comforting kiss on his head. “Nothing worth getting worked up about.” She gave Makoto a meaningful look. “Right, Makoto?” 

Makoto didn’t reply. He glared down at the table, gnawing hard on his lip. 

“I’m sorry, Sousuke-kun,” Mr Tachibana said. He offered him an apologetic smile. “I guess the three of us got a little lost in that conversation.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Sousuke managed, with a lack of anything better to say. 

Mr Tachibana looked to his son. “Makoto?” 

Makoto gave him a cold look, before turning to Sousuke, his gaze immediately softening. Their pinkies locked tighter underneath the table. Despite his warm expression, Sousuke could feel his hand shaking. “Sorry, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke was seriously resisting the urge to press his lips to Makoto’s comfortingly. He couldn’t think of anything else he could do. “It’s fine.”

The tension between the two sides of the table only ripened when Makoto’s voice dropped an octave. “My parents and I will have to continue this conversation later.” 

“Will we?” Mrs Tachibana asked, brushing a strand of hair casually out of her face. She didn’t look so warm and pretty, anymore. She looked more like an agitated little queen, with her small hands folded in front of her and her green eyes as cool as a couple of jade stones. “I thought you didn’t want us to make a big deal out of it.” 

Sousuke could practically hear Makoto’s patience snap. He suspected everyone in the restaurant could, too. It was deafening - like the shattering of a glass vase in a silent room. Makoto pulled his pinkie away from Sousuke’s and curled his shaking hands into tight fists in his lap, his green eyes furious. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” he snapped, his voice breaking. “That’s all I want to know. Have I ever given you a reason to not trust me in the past? Did I ever do anything to warrant this kind of reaction?”

Mr and Mrs Tachibana blinked at him in surprise, their cold looks momentarily slipping. Mrs Tachibana regained herself first, her mouth turning down in an insistent frown. “Makoto-”

“All I’ve ever been is careful and quiet,” he continued, cutting her off. His voice shook with hurt and anger, and his fists were shaking so hard in his lap that Sousuke had to focus on not taking them in his hands to still them. “I’ve never tried to disobey you guys, or lie to you, or shut you out. What more do you want from me? What more could I have done, to let you be okay with this?” 

Mrs Tachibana bristled, her gaze sharpening again. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. Makoto, how do you think we feel, hearing about this decision you’ve made? You’ve only been out of the house for eight months, and-”

“You think it’s a decision?” Makoto snapped. “You think I can help being the way I am?” 

“This is who you are?” Mr Tachibana demanded, leaning forward. “Nineteen years you spent under our roof, and only now do you discover ‘who you are?’ This isn’t you, this is an excuse for change. This is an excuse to distance yourself and be ‘different.’ How can you expect us to take you seriously, when every teenager in Tokyo is doing the exact same thing?” 

“Because I’m your son!” Makoto said, his voice breaking. “I’m not a child. I know what I am, and the only reason why I didn’t know before was because Iwatobi is a damn bubble of ignorance!” 

Both Ran and Ren, who had both been watching in horrified fascination, inhaled sharply at the curse word. But, for once, Makoto ignored them completely and pressed forward. 

“I’m sorry I’m not what you expected, but I never was, alright? Just because I’m coming out to you now doesn’t mean I was straight up until now. I’ve always known I was different. But I never thought that was a bad thing, because I always figured that when I did confront my own problems and find some sort of thing to call myself, you and Haru and everyone else would be accepting of me. Because that’s all I’ve tried to be to everyone else, all my life.” He shook his head, his lips curling in a snarl. “That’s what you taught me to be, isn’t it? Considerate and accepting? Where the hell has all that gone now, then?”

Sousuke tensed. His skin was beginning to burn under the gazes of the people surrounding them. He put a hand on Makoto’s knee, dropping his voice in warning. “Makoto…” 

“How does this affect you, really?” Makoto snapped, disregarding him. “Please enlighten me, will you? Does this really make you so uncomfortable that you have to mock me into submission?” 

“Uncomfortable?” Mr Tachibana echoed. He laughed bitterly. “You think it’s a matter of comfort? Makoto, we’re worried about how this is going to affect your future. Do you have any idea the prejudice you’d be facing in Iwatobi, if you were out there? Hell, it might even be the same here. You’ll lose jobs, partners, opportunities to live comfortably. All because of a cute little term you discovered on the internet.” 

“It’s not that simple,” Makoto insisted, “It was never that simple! Just because I now have a name for what I am doesn’t mean I was ever anything else.” 

“Then why didn’t you ever tell us?” Mrs Tachibana said. 

“Because I thought it wouldn’t matter!” Makoto shot back, and Sousuke and the twins all flinched in the heavy anger in his tone. “How was I supposed to know you’d react like this? I didn’t tell you because I trusted you to not care either way. I didn’t expect you to ever prove me wrong, because all you’ve ever been is dependable. I never realized I’d have to come out to you as pansexual for that all to go to hell, but apparently-” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” Mrs Tachibana hissed, pointing a threatening finger at him. “That’s not something you ever call yourself, Tachibana Makoto. You are not a pansexual.” She spat the word as if it were poison. 

“Yes I am!” Makoto said, his voice weak. “I’m pan, Mom. I always have been. I don’t care if you think it’s a slur, or if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s what I am, and laughing at me and screaming at me isn’t going to change that. For once in my life, I couldn’t give a damn what you or anyone else-” 

“Stop swearing!” Ran cried, her jade gaze blown wide in anger. She looked between her parents and her brother, pounding a small fist on the table. “You’re going to make Ren cry!”  
Sousuke glanced across the table, where Ren was staring at them all with fat tears brimming in his eyes and his chin wobbling. He started under their gazes and quickly wiped his flushed cheeks with the inside of his wrists. 

“Why do you guys have to fight?” he mumbled. “You keep swearing, and there are people around, and you’re scaring me…” 

“It’s embarrassing!” Ran added, her voice sharp. She pounded her fist on the table again, and Sousuke was strangely reminded of his own mother. “I don’t know what you’re fighting about, but I don’t like it,and neither does anybody else.” She jabbed a thumb at Sousuke. “We have a guest, you knuckleheads!” 

“Ran…” Mr Tachibana breathed, his shoulders slumping. Mrs Tachibana’s pretty face had gone soft as she wiped away Ren’s tears, murmuring apologies. 

Makoto let out a hard, shuddering breath, his eyes drifting shut as he bit down hard on his lip. The muscles in his neck and arms remained taut, like a widened bow ready to snap. His fingers shook against the table, and he suddenly looked paler than Sousuke had ever seen him. A single bead of sweat dripped from his hairline down the slope of his temple.  
“Makoto,” Sousuke said, bringing his eyebrows together. He squeezed his boyfriend’s knee gently. “You alright?” 

“Fine,” Makoto replied. His voice was fragile, barely more than a weak exhale. He put a hand over his chest and coughed. “It’s just… getting a little harder to breathe.” 

Sousuke tensed. “Makoto, are you-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Makoto waved him off, his eyes remaining closed. “Just give me a… a second.” He coughed again. When he spoke again, he sounded as if a rough hand was clasped around his throat. “Gotta catch my… catch my breath.” 

“Onii-chan?” Ran asked. She pouted. “Hey. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he said, managing a smile. He screwed his eyes up tighter and let out a labored, concentrated exhale. “There’s… just… a little tickle in my chest.” 

“A tickle?” Ran’s pout deepened. “Are you sick?” 

“No, I’m…” He brought his fist up to his mouth to cough. When he lowered it, his breathing had picked up, and his eyes were fixated on the edge of the table. “I’m… f-fine.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke murmured, his throat catching. Of all the times… He tried again, thanking any deity out there when his voice remained calm and soft. He brushed a long strand of hair from Makoto’s eyes and touched his arm. “Hey. You’re okay.”

Makoto nodded hurriedly. “I know. I just…. Shit. There’s…. A lot.....Of people here.” 

“Makoto?” Mr Tachibana said, his eyebrows furrowing. He studied his son with a perplexed expression. “What are you…?” 

“I’m fine,” Makoto snapped. He coughed again and shrugged Sousuke’s hand off. “R-really. I’m…” 

“No, you’re not,” Sousuke said, softly but insistently. “Makoto-”

“Please stop,” he croaked, pressing himself against the wall. He shook his head repeatedly, his chest heaving. “‘M sorry. I’m...sorry. Just… please stop saying my name. It’s…” He paused to cough. The hand on his chest snaked up to clutch at his throat. He shut his eyes tight, his cracked lips parted to release labored pants. “It’s making it worse.” 

“Sousuke-kun, what’s happening?” Mrs Tachibana asked. She looked between them, her expression panicked.The hard anger in her eyes had given way entirely to anxious concern. “What’s wrong with him?” 

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” Sousuke said. He focused on keeping his features slack, unbothered. The last thing Makoto needed right now was a frantic family nagging fretfully at him. “He’s just having a panic attack.” 

Mr Tachibana’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Just having a panic attack?”

“He’s hyperventilating,” Mrs Tachibana said, her voice high. “Why is he…?”

“‘M fine,” Makoto insisted. His nostrils flared with the effort to breathe. “Sorry. Just gotta… calm down… for a sec… ‘M sorry.” He coughed, his breathing becoming desperate. “Not a panic attack.”

“Yes it is, Makoto,” Sousuke said. He took his boyfriend’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles. His own heart was thumping hard in his chest, but he ignored it. The only thing worth concentrating on was calming Makoto down. Shit. This was very different than being alone, in the safety and warmth of their dorm. There were people, and Makoto’s parents were here. His parents, who were arguably the source of the panic attack itself. 

His mother’s voice suddenly spoke in his head, like some sort of supernatural reassurance.

‘Stage one of recovering from a panic attack, kiddo. Acceptance. He needs to admit he’s panicking and that he needs your help,’ mind-Kano said. 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, focusing on Makoto’s face. “Hey. Look at me. Are you alright?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“No, you’re not. I’ll ask again: are you okay?” 

Makoto frowned at him, his nostrils flaring. He closed his eyes and swallowed. A couple tears caught on his eyelashes. “...No. I’m… not.” 

“There we go,” Sousuke whispered to himself. He held Makoto’s hand tighter, pressing his thumb to each knuckle in turn. “Focus on me, okay? What do you need?” 

“Need…”

“Yeah. What do you need from me?” 

“Onii-chan,” Ren whimpered. He wiped the silent tears that had fallen down his flushed, round cheeks. “Onii-chan you’re scaring me.” 

Makoto’s pained expression crumpled. His breathing quickened, a soft wheezing in the back of his throat. He held Sousuke’s hand so tight that Sousuke’s knuckles flushed white. “‘M sorry.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Sousuke insisted. He snapped his fingers in front of Makoto’s gaze, forcing him to focus again. “You’re fine. Just tell me what you need from me, okay? I want to help.” 

“Sousuke…” Makoto croaked. He closed his eyes. “Just… need to get out of here.” 

The Kano in Sousuke’s mind spoke again: ‘No. Don’t let him leave, Sou. Stage two of dealing with a panic attack: Wait. He needs to stay put and focus on controlling his breathing. If he leaves it’ll only get worse and he could faint from lack of air and panic.’ 

Sousuke wasn’t entirely sure how reliable the figmented mother giving him advice was, considering he was pulling it all from memory, but telling himself this in her voice was oddly comforting and it was better than nothing. With nothing else to go on, he took Makoto’s other shaking hand in his and shook his head. “I can’t do that, Makoto. You need to stay here. If you move it will only get worse.” 

“It’s… already worse,” Makoto growled. He suddenly leaned forward, pressing against Sousuke and pushing them towards the edge of the booth. “Need to… get out of here.”

“Onii-chan,” Ren said, his voice shrill. “Onii-chan, stop it. It’s not funny.” 

“Ren,” Mrs Tachibana said in warning. She drew her son close, her green eyes wide in fixated horror as Sousuke struggled to keep a shaking Makoto in place. “Sousuke-kun, what’s happening to him? What’s happening to my son?” 

“Nothing, he just needs to calm down,” Sousuke said. He resisted the urge to snarl in frustration as Makoto fought against him more desperately, his breathing ragged and his eyes fixed on the door like a caged animal. He caught Makoto’s wrists and brought him close, forcing their foreheads against each other. Makoto pulled back, inhaling and exhaling so quickly Sousuke was afraid his lungs would burst, but Sousuke managed to keep him in place long enough for their gazes to meet. “Stop. You’re only making it worse. Hold still, okay?” 

“Has this happened before?” Mr Tachibana interrupted, his tone taut with concern. “Is he going to be alright? Makoto, are you-”

“Just shut up for a second, will you?” Sousuke snapped, before he could stop himself. Adding some venom to his deep voice seemed to do the trick, however, because Mr Tachibana blanched and clamped his mouth shut. Hopefully he’d get the idea and stay quiet until Makoto was under control. 

“Sou… Need to get… out of here,” Makoto managed, before he twisted his face away to cough into the crook of his arm. He struggled weakly against Sousuke’s grip. “Le’go. Please.” 

“No,” Sousuke said simply. 

‘Hold him close to you,’ mind-Kano instructed. ‘Stage three of dealing with panic attacks: initiate comfort through physical contact. He trusts you. Your touch will calm him and ease the fear.’

Sousuke obediently released Makoto’s wrists long enough to grip his taut biceps instead and pulled their bodies close. “Stay here with me. You’re okay. I promise.” 

“So many… people,” Makoto hissed. His shaking fingers curled tight into the fabric of Sousuke’s shirt, and his head dropped to rest against Sousuke’s shoulder. “Too hot. Can’t… can’t breathe.” 

Sousuke brought them closer together still, one arm wrapping around his boyfriend’s back and the other lifting to cup the nape of his neck. “Yes you can. You’re strong, remember? Here. Put your hand on my chest and feel me breathe, like before. It’s so easy, you just have to focus.” 

“There… are people…”

“Makoto. It’s fine. Don’t worry about them. Just listen to me breathe, and it’ll all be over.”

Makoto shakily obeyed, his hand finding the dip of Sousuke’s pectorals and pressing his palm flat against his heart. Sousuke breathed deeply. In, out. In out. He closed his eyes and focused on the shaking hand against his chest, on tracing little circles across the soft skin of the nape of Makoto’s neck. The eyes of Makoto’s family made his blood thrum uncomfortably, but that didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was making sure Makoto was okay. 

“M’sorry,” Makoto whispered into the crook of his throat as his breathing, finally, began to slow. “‘M… So sorry.” 

Sousuke wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Maybe to him, or to his parents, or to his siblings. Hell, maybe he was apologizing to all of them. 

Or maybe he was just apologizing because he was Makoto. 

When Sousuke opened his eyes again, both Mrs Tachibana and Ren were crying. Tears that glowed amber in the yellow lamp above their heads fell down the curve of their freckled cheeks. They pressed against Mr Tachibana, and the three of them gawked like a flock of owls. Sousuke couldn’t see Ran after turning to embrace Makoto, but he suspected she had a similar expression. 

Not entirely sure what to do with himself, Sousuke looked to the window instead, rubbing Makoto’s back comfortingly as his breathing returned to normal. He felt the tensed muscle of Makoto’s body unravel in his arms, like the petals of a flower spreading after being released from its tight bud. 

“Onii-chan?” Ran asked. She leaned over the table to get a better look at her brother over Sousuke’s shoulder. Her eyes were dry but blown wide with anxiousness, her thin eyebrows drawn so close together that a neat line interrupted the soft skin of her forehead. “Onii-chan, are you okay?” 

Makoto swallowed, before offering a shaky nod. “Yeah.” 

“Makoto,” Mr Tachibana croaked. He reached over the table to brush his son’s arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? What… What was that?” 

Makoto didn’t reply immediately. For a couple of moments he remained nestled against Sousuke’s chest, his fingers curling in the fabric just against his heart, before he disentangled himself and forced himself into a sitting position. Sousuke held his arm to steady him. 

“I… I just. Um.” Makoto looked down at his lap and gnawed on his lip. His skin, usually a healthy caramel, looked painfully blanched in the lighting of the restaurant. “It….was like Sousuke said. Had… a bit of a panic attack.” 

Mrs Tachibana made a soft noise in the back of her throat, something between a whimper and a sob. She covered her mouth with one well-manicured hand and held Ren closer to her. 

“And… You’re okay, now?” Ran asked tentatively. 

Makoto blinked down at her, his eyes vacant for a moment, before he managed a smile. His chest still heaved, but it was now from exhaustion. He was steadily recovering from the episode, Sousuke assumed. He hoped. “Yeah. I’m okay.” 

“Don’t do that again,” Ren whined, wiping away his tears. “That was scary.” 

Makoto laughed weakly, his voice catching with a final burst of coughs. “I’ll try not to.” 

“Has this happened before?” Mrs Tachibana asked.

Makoto’s forced, shallow smile faltered. “Couple times.” 

“In… In public?” 

“No.” 

“And you…?” Mr Tachibana looked to Sousuke, shakily adjusting his glasses. “How did you know how to, well, erm….” 

“I don’t,” Sousuke said honestly. “Not really, anyway. I’ve only been around for one other attack.” 

“I s-see,” Mr Tachibana said, nodding to himself. 

“Mako,” Mrs Tachibana breathed. She opened her mouth to say something else, but nothing escaped her lips. She pursed them and studied her son’s face with a pained expression. Makoto met her eyes without batting an eyelash, his gaze devoid of any clear emotion other than exhaustion. He looked hollow, like someone had drained the sunlight from him and left him cold and empty. It was almost physically painful. Every fiber of Sousuke’s body urged him to act again, to take Makoto’s face in his hands and breathe life back into his lips so color would return to his freckled cheeks and eyes. He felt useless sitting silently at Makoto’s side again, but common sense kept him quiet and still at Makoto’s side. The Tachibanas and their reaction to seeing their son in such a weakened state was not something he should interrupt. 

Makoto and his parents watched each other for a long time. What little emotion Makoto showed was made up for in the hurt, confused expressions of the Tachibanas, their faces practically radiating raw shock and sorrow. It was surreal, really. Not fifteen minutes prior, those faces had been bent and curled with anger. Seeing them suddenly so slack and vulnerable was almost disturbing. 

“Makoto,” Mr Tachibana said, breaking the silence. He shifted uncertainly in his seat, avoiding his son’s eyes. His voice, once warm and hearty, was painfully weak. “What… what is it that you need right now? From us?”

Makoto’s lack of expression didn’t falter in the slightest. He sighed heavily and leaned against Sousuke, his gaze drifting to the window. 

“I need to sleep.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more angst and whales being cute :'D
> 
> TOO. LONG. Okay, I'm honestly going to try making them considerably shorter, so I can update quicker and not overwhelm anyone who's reading with chapters the lengths of novels.

They came to a shaky agreement of what to do next after the food arrived. 

Makoto assured them that he was fine, that he just needed to go outside for a bit to sit on the curb and maybe close his eyes for a bit, but Sousuke and the Tachibanas promptly ignored him. They agreed to box everything up and take it back to the Tachibanas’ hotel room to eat there. Makoto would be able to lie down in one of the twins’ bed and eat comfortably, and a movie would be turned on for the twins to calm them down after the… excitement, of seeing their brother go through a severe panic attack in public. Once everyone was situated, Mr Tachibana would drive Sousuke home with his packaged meal. 

“Wait,” Makoto spoke up at that, frowning. He turned to Sousuke. “You’re going back?” 

“Well, yeah. I have classes tomorrow that I need to get to.”

“So do I, but apparently I’m skipping those to be with my family,” he said, and Mrs and Mr Tachibana both winced at the dismissal in his voice. “I should come with you.” 

Sousuke shook his head. “No, you should be with your parents. They’re only here for a couple of days, and you kinda have to sort out…” He gestured between the Tachibanas vaguely, “Whatever this is. With or without the shouting and arguing. Besides, I doubt you’ll be able to get proper sleep with Tanaka around. Take advantage of your parents’ hotel room and rest.You can afford to play hookie for a day.” 

Makoto’s frown deepened. “Sousuke, I’m fine. Really.”

“You are now, but you weren’t ten minutes ago,” Sousuke replied simply, “Look, the sooner you and your parents get this all settled, the better. Putting it off to come home with me isn’t going to solve anything.” He took Makoto’s cold hand underneath the table and squeezed it. “You said it yourself. It’s better to not have to worry about it anymore.”

Makoto gave him a tired, ‘I’m-done-with-your-responsibility-shit’ look, before letting out a frustrated sigh and returning the hand squeeze. “Damn you, Yamazaki.” 

“Don’t curse,” Ren grumbled under breath, and Sousuke couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

Makoto gave his little brother an apologetic smile. “Sorry. He’s a bad influence.” 

Ran pouted up at Sousuke. “Are you teaching Onii-chan how to curse, Sou-kun? That’s rude.” 

“...Sou-kun?” 

“In all seriousness, Makoto, he’s is right,” Mr Tachibana interjected. He interlocked his hands and stared down at them, frustration taking the form of the line between his knit brows. “We… We should try this again. Preferably not in public. And maybe not so loud.” 

Makoto’s expression hardened. “You say that as if it wasn’t you who-”

“Onii-chan,” Ran whined. She gave him a stern look. “You’re going to make Ren cry again.” 

Makoto fell silent. He avoided Mr Tachibana’s gaze, his eyes fixed on the edge of the table. His bottom lip was pulled in to be gnawed on, already raw and pink from the pressure of his teeth. A familiar anger blossomed in Sousuke’s chest at seeing him like this. It took incredible concentration not to shoot Mr Tachibana a glare over the table. 

He wasn’t sure what to think of the Tachibanas now. They’d been ruthless in their questioning of Makoto, determined to talk him into submission, but they’d wilted like a couple of daisies after seeing Makoto’s panic attack. Sousuke didn’t know what to make of that. 

He didn’t think Makoto’s parents were necessarily bad people. They were insistent idiots, undeniably, but they didn’t seem to understand pansexuality beyond what they’d heard from their relatives in the ridiculously tiny town of Iwatobi. Sousuke doubted they knew what to make of all this. When it came down to it, Sousuke suspected miscommunication was one of the leading factors to blame for the entire situation. At least...he hoped it was. There was always the chance that Makoto’s parents were just selfish pricks who delighted in mocking their son. 

If that were the case, Sousuke definitely had a thing or two to say to them. 

But he decided to remain quiet and attempt to be considerate for now, because if the roles were switched, Makoto definitely would’ve done the same. There was no point in denying that Sousuke was sharp, blunt, and judgemental. He always had been, he probably would be for a while yet. But something about this particular situation was different. It demanded the patience that Makoto had been robbed of the moment his parents turned against him.

Sousuke figured he owed it to Makoto to stay level-headed. Hopefully that would be enough from his end. 

\---000---

The drive to the hotel was painfully awkward. 

Ren sat in Makoto’s lap this time, but he didn’t look particularly thrilled about it. He pouted at the messy floor of the car the whole way, his small hands absently twining and playing with Makoto’s slender fingers. Makoto let him,every so often curling his own hands around his brother’s, squeezing, and letting go. Sousuke, seated in the middle with Ran on his other side, watched the dance of fingers the majority of the ride, with a lack of anywhere else to look. Makoto had closed his eyes and rested his head back almost immediately after getting in the car, color returning to his face but his expression remaining hollow. He didn’t look particularly angry or hurt anymore - just exhausted. He seemed more than content in ignoring his parents and their unreadable, uncertain glances. 

The only sound was the tap of Ran’s sneakers on the car floor as she stared out her window, her little chin resting on a fist. Every now and then she’d nudge Sousuke and point out something that had caught her interest. Like a dog with spotted fur, or a tree with yellow leaves. She didn’t seem bothered in the slightest that Sousuke was practically a stranger. They could’ve been siblings themselves, from how casually she pointed things out to him. Sousuke, in all honesty, found it incredibly endearing. 

At some point, Makoto drifted off and his head came down to rest on Sousuke’s shoulder. It was so natural for them that Sousuke didn’t think much of it, until he realized that they were indeed in the car of Makoto’s questionable parents and confused younger siblings. He set his jaw and stared hard at Ren’s fingers, praying that Mr Tachibana’s eyes weren’t on them like he knew they were. He wondered if Makoto would’ve cared either way, if he’d been awake. 

Ren didn’t seem to realize Makoto had drifted off until Makoto began making those huffy little puppy noises he did when he was asleep. His little brother looked back, slowly took in his head on Sousuke’s shoulder, and gently led one of Makoto’s hands to rest against Sousuke’s in his lap. Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. 

Was this some sort of peace offering? Some sort of silent confirmation that Ren approved? He gave Ren a quizzical look, but the younger boy had already turned back to lazily playing with Makoto’s other hand. He pouted down at his brother’s long fingers, tracing them in turn as if they were a source of great interest. Sousuke couldn’t help a weak smile. He glanced momentarily up at the front to make sure the Tachibanas weren’t looking, before lacing his fingers with the hand Ren had forced into his lap. Makoto sighed in his sleep. He settled closer to Sousuke, his tongue flicking out to dampen the raw, pink skin of his bottom lip. Sousuke resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him in his light sleep. 

“We’re here,” Mrs Tachibana muttered after maybe ten more minutes, swivelling the car into a free spot. She’d driven them down into the dark parking lot below the supermarket that neighbored the hotel. The dull yellow lights cutting through the darkness illuminated the twins’ eyes, turning them to a sharp amber. They looked like a couple of sluggish owlets as they undid their buckles and popped their doors open. 

“Okay. I’m running the twins upstairs and putting the food in the microwave. Sousuke-kun, will you wake him, please?” Mrs Tachibana asked, not looking back as she slipped out of her own door. She and her husband walked around to the trunk to pull out their packaged dinners, and Makoto and Sousuke were momentarily alone in the car.

“Makoto,” Sousuke said softly. He shook Makoto’s shoulder. “Hey. We’re here. C’mon, babe.”

Makoto straightened with a sharp inhale, his eyes drifting open. The side of his head that had been resting against Sousuke’s shoulder was flattened, sticking upward at an awkward angle. Sousuke smiled. It kinda reminded him of a puppy with its ear turned inside out. 

“We’re here?” Makoto mumbled, squinting outside. 

“Yeah. Your family already got out.” 

“Mm.” He nodded sleepily, unclasping his hand from Sousuke’s to pat his hair down. The yellow parking lot lights turned his skin and hair to gold. His eyes, dark with exhaustion, caught the glow of the artificial lamp just outside the car window and flashed copper. He looked as if he’d been cut from a slab of shimmering metal. “This… this is the hotel?” 

“No. We’re in the parking lot next to it.” 

“Oh.” Makoto turned to meet his gaze and blinked at him. He offered a small smile. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Sousuke replied, returning it. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” Makoto said, shrugging a shoulder. His smile fell, and he studied Sousuke’s face with a new look of concern. “What about you? Are you alright? You’re not…?” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “Not what?” 

“I dunno. Not… fed up with this,” Makoto mumbled, dropping his gaze. He groaned and ran a hand through his bangs. “Shit, I’m so sorry. This is a mess, and I never intended for you to get this involved, and it must’ve been so embarrassing to deal with me in the restaurant…” His voice broke. “I’m really, really sorry, Sousuke.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Sousuke said, huffing. “Honestly. You think I’m just going to let you suffer through this alone? I care about you, stupid.” He took Makoto’s hand back in his and squeezed. “It’s going to be fine. I won’t let it be anything else.” 

Makoto stared at him for a long time, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze pained. He let out a shallow breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again a couple of tears were caught in his eyelashes. “I really don’t deserve you.” 

“Don’t,” Sousuke began, his chest strung tight in protest. He pinched Makoto’s chin and brought his face close to press a kiss to Makoto’s forehead. “You’ve said that before, and it’s still the stupidest thing I’ve heard yet.”

Makoto laughed weakly. “It sure doesn’t feel like it.” 

“Well, it is. End of discussion.” 

Makoto’s smile widened. A tear fell down the curve of his cheek, and he hurriedly wiped it away with the inside of his wrist. “As stubborn as always, I see.” 

“You better believe it, kid.” 

That prompted a laugh. A sweet, quiet laugh that made Sousuke’s skin instantly warm with the touch of sunlight. He twined his fingers tighter with Makoto’s, and the nagging feeling of dread disappeared a little. The curve of Makoto’s lips was reassurance in itself. 

“Well, I’m really grateful,” Makoto said. He smiled, and thankfully, this smile didn’t look like a shadow of hurt. “When this is all over, I owe you a thousand backrubs. And maybe half of my soul.”

Sousuke snorted, smiling despite himself. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s debatable. I feel like I owe you a lot.”

“You don’t, dumbass. Stop saying stupid stuff like that.” 

Makoto groaned, his shoulders slumping in frustration. “Why do you always insult me when I’m trying to express my gratitude? Well, you’ve insulted me in other instances, too…”

“Because.” Sousuke looked away and frowned at the floor of the car. A touch of heat rose to his face. “I… don’t really know what else to do. I’m not very good at this. I thought you’d figured that out by now. Besides, you know I don’t mean any of it.”

Makoto’s expression softened. “Aw. You’re cute.”

“Shut up.” 

“Just telling it like it is, Sou.” 

“You know what? I take it back. You really are a dumbass,” Sousuke grumbled. Makoto laughed. Which really wasn’t fair, considering his laugh was so contagious that Sousuke couldn’t help but chuckle, too. They turned their bodies towards each other so their knees bumped comfortingly, and for a moment the only noise was the soft, echoing sounds of their voices in the otherwise silent parking lot. 

“You’re… You’re really great,” Makoto said. He propped his arm up on the seat and rested his head against his hand, studying Sousuke with a sad smile. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to get used to being with you. It just… It doesn’t feel real. I hear your voice, or I see you smile, and it just hits me really hard, you know?” He looked away. The yellow light of the parking lot turned his rising blush to the color of an orange sunset. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. It really feels like something out of a dream.”

Sousuke gulped. Heat crawled its way up his throat to his face, settling in his cheeks. Honestly, only Makoto seemed to have the ability to do this to him. Fucking Makoto.

“Um,” he grunted. Makoto looked up and lifted his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to continue. Which really only made his struggle for a meaningful reply worse. Where the fuck had his usual cool demeanor gone? What was the point of having an intimidatingly deep voice if he couldn’t even string words together? 

Panicking, he resorted to what was tested, to what was safe. A crooked smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and an attempt at a teasing tone to go along with: “That’s gay, Makoto.”

...Fuck.

Makoto blinked at him, before he burst into laughter, his voice filling the entire world. It was the laugh that they’d both been deprived of for what felt like an eternity - hearty, warm, sincere. It filled every crevice of Sousuke’s body like liquid sunlight. 

“How perceptive of you,” Makoto said, once he’d recovered. He shook his head, his shoulders still shaking with lingering laughter. “I never would’ve guessed, Yamazaki-kun.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Sousuke stuck a threatening finger in his face, fighting the urge to return the smile. “I don’t appreciate this sass, Tachibana. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Rin as corrupted you.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” Makoto replied. “I think I recall you admitting at some point that you were the ‘master of sasster.’” He laughed. “Yeah, I remember! And then I said, ‘More like the master of disaster,’ and you threw a pen at me.”

Sousuke nodded solemnly. “It just goes to show. I have a very short temper when it comes to you sassing me.” 

That made Makoto laugh again. A short, soft burst, with his chin tilted back, his eyes closed, and dimples in his cheeks. The freckles on the bridge of his nose danced merrily. Sousuke resisted the urge to scramble for his phone and take a picture. 

“Why is it,” Makoto began, his dimples remaining stubbornly in place, “that you always manage to make me laugh, when I’m in the shittiest of moods? Like, seriously. Today, I’ve felt awful. Worse than I think I’ve felt in years. My heart hurts and my head aches and it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck, I’m so tired. I feel broken.” 

He smiled shyly. “And somehow…. I don’t know. You just being here makes it all a little better. Part of me wishes you weren’t, so you wouldn’t have to see me and my family like this and deal with our crap, but it really does help.” His gaze dropped, the curve of his lips fading to a concerned line. “I’m so sorry, Sousuke. I’m so, so sorry. For everything. This isn’t fair to you. You’ve been nothing be supportive and sweet and respectful, and I repay you by dragging you here and-”

“Makoto,” Sousuke interrupted. He placed a hand on his boyfriend’s knee, his thumb massaging the denim of his jeans. “It’s okay.”

Makoto looked up and frowned at him. “No, it’s not. It’s not okay, and I need to-”

“You don’t have to do anything. Makoto, I don’t care about what’s ‘fair’ or what I ‘deserve.’” He gave Makoto’s knee a squeeze. “I care about you, dumbass. Stop apologizing for something you can’t help.”

Makoto fell silent. His full lips pursed in frustration, despite a new softness settling in his gaze. They studied each other for a moment, before he let out a soft sigh and placed his hand over Sousuke’s, his thumb ghosting across his knuckles. 

“Sousuke,” he said softly. And holy fuck, did his voice sound small. Those green eyes, turned amber in this lighting, moved down to stare at his lap sheepishly. 

“Hm?” Sousuke tilted his head, both in confusion and concern. 

“I just…” Makoto met his gaze in a sudden roar of conflicting color, a soft smile tugging at his lips. When he spoke, he sounded more amused, than anything. “I’m head over heels in love with you, is all.”

It took a second for the words to sink in. Sousuke wasn’t entirely sure how long he sat there, staring like an oblivious idiot before realization hit him like a brick to the head, but it must’ve been a while because Makoto’s expression had started getting concerned. He jolted, and heat rose to face. It felt as if his eyebrows were going to float up to the heavens, they shot so far up. 

Makoto had always had some supernatural ability to get him flustered, but this was a whole new level of suffering. He could literally feel the thump of his heart in his lips, in his cheeks, in the tips of his ears. He knew - no, they both knew, - this was the part when he was supposed to smile coolly and say he loved him too, but for some horrible reason all he could do was stare and listen to his own deep voice stutter nonsense. 

What. The actual. Fuck. 

He could hardly be blamed, though. Nobody had ever said they were in love with him, before. This was foreign territory. And it really didn’t help that Makoto was Makoto, the nicest, hottest, bestest boyfriend that he also happened to love a whole fucking lot. 

Of all the times to turn into a big, ugly, blushing mess… Nice one, Yamazaki. 

“Sousuke?” Makoto said. He smiled weakly. “You okay? Did I kill you?”

“Ergh,” he managed, and his deep voice sounded more like the quiet growl of a grizzly than it did a human’s. He shook his head, cleared his throat, and attempted again. “I mean, um. No. I’m…. Well, I’m…. Sousuke. No, wait. What was the question?”

Makoto chuckled hopelessly. The concern in his eyes was replaced with fondness as he opened his mouth to reply, but anything he might’ve said died on his lips as the quiet voices of the Tachibanas approaching outside reached them. He clamped his mouth shut and scooted away from Sousuke, and the vacant look returned to his face as if it had never left. 

“-Don’t know what to do,” Mr Tachibana was whispering from outside the car. His and his wife’s shoes scratched along the asphalt as they approached. Sousuke heard them stop at the passenger’s door. Mrs Tachibana rapped her knuckles on the glass of the half-lowered window and popped the door open. She looked in with a tired smile. 

“Makoto,” she said in a painfully gentle voice, “Do you want to come up to the room? The twins are watching The Lion King. Your favorite.”

Makoto didn’t look very tempted at all, but he gave a short nod. “Fine.” 

Mrs Tachibana relaxed, as if that was a big success in itself. “Great. Your father’s going to drive Sousuke-kun home, now.”

Makoto didn’t reply. He gave Sousuke a small smile, before scooting out and getting to his feet with a huff, arching his back in a stretch. 

“I’ll text you,” Sousuke blurted, wincing. Makoto crouched down to meet his gaze again, blinking in surprise, before letting his smile widen. 

“Okay. I’ll keep my phone on.”

“Okay.” 

“See you later?”

“Yeah.” 

No. Say something else, you idiot. Something like, ‘I love you too,’ or ‘please be okay,’ or ‘you’re strong. Don’t let them push you around. It’s going to be okay and I’ll wait all night for you to confirm it.’ That’s what he should’ve said, but the presence of the Tachibanas was suffocating and his tongue still refused to cooperate. So he just sat like a fucking moron as Makoto moved away, his sneakers squeaking against the ground of the parking lot. Mr Tachibana took his place, bending over to peer at Sousuke with an exhausted expression. 

“You can sit in the front, Yamazaki-kun. It’ll be a pretty lengthy drive.” 

“Just Sousuke,” he mumbled out of habit. 

This was going to be interesting. 

\---000---

When Mr Tachibana pulled out of the parking lot, the sky was dark and the city was buzzing with lights and the sounds of the city at night. They joined the streaming mass of cars without a word. Mr Tachibana’s fingers fiddled on the steering wheel, drumming against it and taking up the entire car with the noise. He looked at the street in front of them with a hard expression, and it looked so unnatural on his usually cheery, Makoto-esque face that Sousuke briefly wondered if he was going to be murdered tonight. 

Considering the events of the day, he wouldn’t be all that surprised. 

With nothing to do, Sousuke just stared ahead and gnawed at his lip, letting his mind wander. Exhaustion was beginning to settle in his mind. Fuck, it really had been a long day. He doubted he had any room to complain, (his boyfriend had literally had a panic attack in a restaurant, after all,) but it was undeniable. As soon as he got back to his dorm and escaped this horribly awkward silence with Makoto’s father, he’d collapse on his bed and probably sleep for the next thousand years. 

“So,” Mr Tachibana spoke up about ten minutes into the drive, and Sousuke nearly bumped his head on the roof of the car from jumping in surprise. “I… I suppose I owe you an apology, Sousuke-kun. My entire family does, probably.”

Sousuke didn’t reply. What was he supposed to say to that, anyways? Yeah, Mr Tachibana sure as hell owed him an apology. He owed his son an even bigger apology, too. One of incredible proportions. But, for some reason, that didn’t seem like the right thing to say at the moment.

“I should also thank you,” Mr Tachibana continued. He sighed at the road. “For taking care of my son, back there. On multiple occasions. That was… very admirable, what you did in the restaurant. Taking it into your own hands when he needed you.”

Well, nobody else was going to, apparently. “Thanks.”

“And keeping my wife and I in check during that whole situation, too. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.”

“Me neither,” Sousuke replied honestly. That prompted a chuckle. 

“Honestly. A college freshman managed to stay more together than me in that situation. Me. A middle-aged novelist. I’ve written panic attack scenes before, is the sad thing. I’ve researched them. I should know what I’m doing.”

Sousuke nodded, not entirely sure if he should’ve been amused with this attempt at conversation or a little insulted. Did Mr Tachibana seriously expect him to forget the conversation at the restaurant? “It was… sudden.” 

Mr Tachibana shrugged. “That’s hardly a sound excuse, though. It didn’t seem to affect you.” 

“Well, Makoto and I have spent a lot of time together,” Sousuke said. What the hell. Was he seriously defending this guy? “I know how this stuff works. I know how he works.” 

“Yes, well. I’m his father.”

Then fucking act like it, Tachibana. 

Sousuke didn’t say that, though. The possibility that he was going to be murdered by the man sitting next to him was still a little too realistic to try his luck. 

They fell back into silence. Mr Tachibana pursed his lips as he watched the road, his fingers drumming along the steering wheel again. The awkward quiet was so stiff between them that Sousuke was almost tempted to lean forward and turn on the music, in hopes of a distraction. Might as well listen to something moderately entertaining before he was strangled in the car of his boyfriend’s father, right?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, signalling that he’d gotten a text. He didn’t hesitate in pulling it out and holding it up to his face, a hope lifting in his chest. Sure enough, Makoto’s name beamed up at him from the glowing screen, accompanied by three new messages. He opened them immediately. 

‘Makoto: Mom’s leaving me alone for now. Eating with the twins and watching a movie. They’re asking about u. I told them your my guardin angel.’

‘Makoto: *guardian’

‘Makoto: Get some sleep when you get back, ok? Dont stay up. And dont bother with your stretchs. You’ve prob had enough exercise for one day haha ^^;’

Sousuke smiled down at his phone. He opened a reply and typed in his own message with one thumb, happy to take his time with it. 

‘Me: lmao ok. You take care of yourself too. Get some sleep and hug a sibling. Dont stress too much. Its all going to be ok, I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment, before sending another message. It was shorter, but it felt like it took an entire year to write. He felt color rise to his face as it inched its way across the reply box. 

‘Me: I love you, btw. A lot. Sorry for earlier. Im a mron.’

He inwardly cursed and sent another one. 

‘Me: *moron’

He stared down at the messages for a moment, his thumb grazing over the little blue and grey boxes, and read the message he sent a couple hundred times. Was that insensitive, to say it over text? Should he have waited until they were face to face? Did Makoto think he was being childish, by replying this late, and through a message on his phone, no less-

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone buzzing in his hand and a couple new box appearing in their chat. 

‘Makoto: haha I know. Dont worry, I thought it was really cute. ^///^ you looked like you were going to explode, and it was honestly p good for my confidence knowing i’d made you turn so red.’

‘Makoto: besides, even if you hadn’t said it back at all, it wouldve been ok. I dont want you to feel pressured into feeling anything you dont want to. And it’s enough for me, just knowing you know how I feel. Love is funny that way.’

‘Makoto: That being said, Im really glad you said it too' 

Sousuke’s smile widened. His fingers flew across the digital keyboard with new urgency, the awkward silence with Mr Tachibana momentarily forgotten as he hurried to reply. 

‘Me: Im glad I did too. I’ve loved you for a while, I think.’ 

‘Me: So it’s nice to say it. Even if it is over stupid messenger.’ 

‘Me: I promise to kiss you when I see you again, whenever that may be. Pls come back in one piece’ 

‘Makoto: Lol I’ll try. You really are my guardian angel, aren’t you?’ 

‘Me: Mmmmm idk. I dont think guardian angels usually want to grab your ass or kiss you til you see stars. But idk, maybe I’m a special case.’ 

‘Makoto: 0///-///0 !!!’ 

“Is that Makoto?” Mr Tachibana suddenly asked, and Sousuke jumped. His phone nearly toppled out of his hand at the sudden presence of that cool voice. He glanced over at his seat neighbor, swallowing. Mr Tachibana kept his eyes on the road, his glasses flashing with the light from the cars in front of them. “Sorry for interrupting. Just wondering.” 

“Oh, um. Yeah,” Sousuke said. He slipped his phone back into the safety of his pocket. “He was telling me that he’s watching a movie with the twins, is all.” 

Mr Tachibana nodded. “Good. I’m glad he’s getting the chance to rest up and spend some with them. All disagreements aside, they’ve missed him like crazy. We were a bit worried the pair of them had actually fallen into a depression about it. Aito made them orca plushies, though, to remind them of him. He always did like orcas, and I remember his friends used to tease him about being an orca himself.” He chuckled. “I’m sure the twins have showed the plushies to him by now. They were beyond excited to let him see.” 

“Hm.” Sousuke nodded. He looked out at the flood of light in front of them. “I know he missed them, too. He talks about them a lot.” 

“Does he?” 

“Yeah. Talks about all the big books Ren reads, and how Ran scored the winning goal for her soccer team. That sort of stuff. He’s really proud of them.” 

“He always has been,” Mr Tachibana agreed. He smiled sadly at the road. “When he was boarding his flight for Tokyo, the twins almost made him miss it, they were crying and hugging him so much.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “Did he cry,too?” 

“Yes, actually. But he wasn’t pleased with it.” Mr. Tachibana gave him an amused glance. “You probably know how Makoto is about crying. Just like his mother. He can’t stand the thought of the people depending on him seeing him vulnerable.” 

Sousuke smiled and offered another nod. “Yeah. His stubbornness about it drives me crazy.” 

“So you’ve seen him cry before?” 

“Yeah. Once.” His smile faded as he was brought back to the morning at Makoto’s side in the bathroom of his dorm, watching in pained silence as tears fell from those bright green eyes. Just the memory made Sousuke angry. A familiar fury made his hands curl into fists and his jaw tighten. He avoided looking back at Mr Tachibana and glared out the window instead, suspecting that if he merely glanced at Makoto’s father with this anger in his stomach he’d end up punching him. Which probably wasn’t the best idea at the moment. 

They fell back into a tense silence, as if the briefly comfortable conversation hadn’t happened at all. Mr Tachibana drove quietly, his fingers drumming harder against the steering wheel. Sousuke watched the people on the sidewalk to their right flit past, one after the other, their characteristics muddled and impossible to make out. Like little glimpses of other lives and other situations. Makoto had described it like that, once. He’d written it down in his little notebook. It had been on one of the pages he’d hesitantly agreed to letting Sousuke see. Sousuke hadn’t appreciated the truth of it until now. 

“Sousuke-kun,” Mr Tachibana spoke again. His voice was serious and soft. 

Sousuke straightened and glanced back at him. “Yeah?” 

“What is your relationship with my son?” 

Sousuke’s eyebrows shot up. His stomach dropped. “My… my relationship?” 

“Yes.” Mr Tachibana nodded in short confirmation. He glanced at Sousuke, and those tawny eyes of his flashed behind his glasses. “What are your feelings toward him?” 

“Um.” 

Fuck. Was he supposed to lie? Dodge the question, somehow? 

“I don’t mean to be intrusive,” Mr Tachibana continued at his lack of reply. He looked back at the road with an almost disinterested expression. “It’s a matter of being informed, I guess. Sorry if it seems like a stupid question.” 

Sousuke didn’t reply for a while. He stared down at his lap and prayed for some sort of divine intervention. Where there even any point in lying? If Mr Tachibana was asking, he probably already knew the answer. It wasn’t as if they’d been incredibly good at hiding it, either. The Tachibanas had probably known from the beginning, actually. Regardless. He really hoped they hadn’t. 

“It’s… not a stupid question,” he said after a painfully long silence. He sighed and forced himself to look at Mr Tachibana. “Well. We’re dating.” 

“Hm.” Mr Tachibana didn’t look surprised at all. He just continued staring up ahead, the only change in his expression a purse of his lips. Fuck. So he HAD known. “For how long.” 

“How long…?” 

“How long have you been dating,” he clarified. It wasn’t a question this time. It was a demand. 

“Uh.” Sousuke swallowed. His throat felt dryer than the Sahara desert. “Four and a half months, roughly.” 

Mr Tachibana nodded thoughtfully. He gave Sousuke a curious look out of the corner of his eye, his eyebrows furrowing. “So, you’re…?” 

“Gay?” Sousuke finished for him. He shook his head a little too quickly. “No. I’m bisexual.” 

“Hm,” Mr Tachibana grunted. He winced, before looking again to Sousuke. “And… what does that mean, exactly? I’ve heard it before, but...” 

For fuck’s sake. How ignorant were these people? “It means I’m attracted to both genders. It’s not that complicated.” 

“That’s what I thought. But according to Makoto, pansexuality is the same. It’s confusing.” 

“They’re similar, but it’s different,” Sousuke said, his voice quiet. “Makoto explained it really well, when we talked about it. It’s like… Pansexuals have no preference, and they’re happy with just about anyone as long as they find them attractive. Bisexuals, um, have a preference, usually. But not always.” He winced. “I don’t know. There were other reasons, too. It makes more sense when Makoto explains it.” 

Mr Tachibana didn’t look very satisfied with that answer. “So. You have a preference.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I do, sometimes I feel like I don’t.” 

“But… when you do have a preference,” Mr Tachibana said cautiously, “It’s in favor for men?” 

“My preference changes too,” Sousuke replied. He shrugged again. “I’ve felt more partial to girls, and I’ve felt more partial to guys. It’s not something I control.” 

“I see.” Mr Tachibana gave a little nod, despite the confused line between his eyebrows. “So when you met my son, you had a preference for men. And you still do.” 

“Not necessarily,” Sousuke said, frowning. He focused on the tone of his voice, on keeping himself from snapping in frustration. Was it really that difficult to understand? “Like I said, I sometimes have a preference and I sometimes don’t. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m bisexual. A preference doesn’t make my attraction towards the other gender disappear.” 

Mr Tachibana nodded again, seeming unbothered by his hard tone. “Okay. I can understand that. So even if you had a preference for women when you met Makoto, you still would’ve been sexually attracted to him.” 

“Well, it was a little more than that,” Sousuke grumbled, “I was romantically attracted to him, too.” 

Mr Tachibana lifted an eyebrow. “Before you were sexually attracted to him?” 

“N-not necessarily…” Heat worked its way up to Sousuke’s face, and he bit his lip in frustration. What was with these people and interrogations? “We were friends, before anything else. It was gradual. Like any other relationship would be. Only after I got to know him did I start having feelings for him. Both romantic feelings and…” He trailed off, embarrassment and anger making his skin itch. 

“Hm. Did he date at all, before you two began dating?” 

“Not really.” Sousuke paused and corrected himself. “Actually, not at all. I think he used what little free time he had to study more and hang out with me and Nanase.” There was that one date with Kisumi, but Sousuke decided to disregard that. 

Mr Tachibana visibly relaxed, but his expression remained troubled. “Are you sure? He never mentioned anything about men and women when you two were friends? He never saw anyone briefly?” 

“No.” Sousuke narrowed his eyes. “Why?” 

Mr Tachibana winced. “Because, in all honesty, part of me suspected Makoto had come out as pansexual so he could use it as an excuse to sleep around.” 

Sousuke leaned away with him, his deep voice incredulous. “Wait, what?” 

“I know that isn’t like him,” Mr Tachibana continued hurriedly, “I know that he has always been respectful and reserved about that sort of thing, but I honestly didn’t know what else to think. Him coming out as pansexual was a shock, and my experience with the term in the past didn’t help. Aito and I-” 

“Wait, wait.” Sousuke held up a hand to pause him. “You’re telling me you thought Tachibana Makoto was using a sexuality and a legitimate term as an excuse to have a lot of sex.” 

“What else were we supposed to think?” Mr Tachibana snapped. “That’s the only context we’ve heard the term in. I can’t speak for the newest generation of Japan, but for us it was the equivalent of our son calling us up to tell us he’d decided to become a whore. I didn’t know what else to make of it.” 

“But he’s Makoto,” Sousuke protested. 

“Yes, and he’s also an attractive college freshman who just moved to a big city to live in a building filled with hundreds of people his age,” Mr Tachibana shot back. “We knew that, and we knew that it would be ridiculous to expect him to keep to himself throughout university. But when he called and told us that he now identifies as something we never-” 

“And that’s supposed to be a good enough reason to treat your son the way you did?” Sousuke demanded. 

“It wasn’t just that, though. We were terrified for him,” Mr Tachibana said, his voice almost pleading. “It’s as I said in the restaurant. His sexuality will influence the rest of his life, and not for the better. He’ll lose jobs, he’ll face discrimination, he’ll never be able to raise a family if he chooses to be with a man. This isn’t America, where everyone can apparently be whatever they want and not have any consequences for it now. He can’t expect the world to be as kind as he has always thought it to be. It doesn’t work like that.” He shook his head and turned a corner a tad forcefully. “We were angry, alright? We were angry, and scared, and confused. We still are. Sousuke-kun, you have to understand that I would rather teach him this lesson now then have someone else teach it to him with a rejection letter for his dream job. Or worse.” 

“What do you mean, ‘or worse?’” 

Mr Tachibana didn’t look away from the road, his expression grim. “Sousuke-kun. Harassment has been present in small towns like Iwatobi since they were founded. The government has always been dismissive of the subject of sexuality, but small towns in particular have a reputation for violence against innocent people. People like Makoto.” He gave a shaky sigh. “We want him to come home, Sousuke-kun. We want him to be able to come home to us without having to worry about people wanting to hurt him, physically or mentally, just because of something he discovered on the internet when he was a freshman.” 

Sousuke didn’t reply. A hard silence fell between them, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, momentarily speechless. 

He was right. Sousuke knew he was right. There had always been stories about harassment in Iwatobi, but it had never been something he’d paid much attention to. Even after going back to swim with Rin, he’d never mentioned his sexuality or dated, so it wasn’t something he was concerned with. But there had definitely been bullying in Samezuka about it. Especially with some of the younger swimmers on the team, like Nitori, who were deemed gay because of how they acted or how they looked. He could still remember late nights in his and Rin’s dorm room, watching as Rin patted Nitori’s back comfortingly and offered him tissues as he cried. 

“It’s not as if we planned for things to go like this,” Mr Tachibana continued. “It’s not as if Aito and I wanted to get in a fight with him about it. That’s why we reacted like we did. It wasn’t something we dwelled much on, but we figured that if we tried to express our feelings in a way that wasn’t violent-” 

“You mean mockery?” Sousuke snapped. “Because that’s perfectly reasonable, isn’t it? Laughing at something that’s obviously important to him is going to make it all better and ‘make him straight again?’” 

Mr Tachibana’s expression hardened at his tone. The vein in his neck tensed, and a suddenly aggressive air suddenly filled the car. “What would you rather have me do, Sousuke-kun? I understand that things have gotten out of control. I understand that we hurt Makoto in a way we didn’t intend. I don’t need you to tell me that, thank you very much. Strictly speaking, this isn’t your business.” 

Oh, fuck no. 

“This is too my business,” Sousuke hissed, his hands curling into fists. “This has been my business from the beginning. I hate to break it to you, but I’m in love with your son and I’m not going to sit around while you humiliate him and make him feel like a child. You scared him shitless, and he’s spent weeks tearing himself apart because of this, because you couldn’t have the decency to take him seriously. Did you honestly think belittling him would work? He’s not a puzzle piece in your perfect little fantasy world. He’s not a doll you can rearrange however you please.” 

Sousuke curled his lips and spat the last bit. “He’s your son.” A terrible silence fell between them. The kind of silence that made Sousuke feel as if they were both drowning in the venom of his own words. Mr Tachibana swallowed, his face twisted in an unreadable expression. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. Sousuke studied him through the silence in distaste. Had he finally run out of excuses? 

“I…” Mr Tachibana croaked, before falling silent again. He cursed under his breath and turned the wheel, and Sousuke realized that they’d found themselves in front of the gates of the campus. Mr Tachibana parked the car in a sliver of space next to it and slumped back, his hands sliding down into his lap. When he looked up, his tawny eyes were conflicted, swimming with an emotion that Sousuke couldn’t read. He opened his mouth and closed it, as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, or where to start. When he did speak, his voice was hard but hesitant. “Did… You’re in love with him?” 

The tension in Sousuke’s muscles loosened at the question. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his lap. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I’m crazy about him.” 

Mr Tachibana studied him, as if he didn’t buy it. “How do you know?” 

“How do I-?” Sousuke cut himself off with another short, bitter laugh. He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at his lap, feeling heat come to his face. “Geez. What a question. I don’t know. I see him, and I never really want to stop seeing him, if that makes sense. I want him to do stuff with me that I used to think was stupid, like talk about nothing until he falls asleep with his head on my shoulder, or watch sucky movies just so I have the excuse to touch him when he’s scared or emotional. I want him to take up space with his laugh and his smile and… and stuff.” He looked out the window and scowled, feeling his face turn an embarrassing shade of red. “Dammit.” 

A soft, uncertain chuckle came from the driver’s seat, and Sousuke dared a glance at Mr Tachibana. The older man was smiling sadly down at his hands, nodding to himself. He looked up and met Sousuke’s eyes, and the only expression he wore was exhaustion. 

“You’re a good man, Sousuke-kun,” he said. “And you’re not the first to fall for green eyes and a warm smile. I have some experience in that department, as well. Makoto and Aito… They’re very similar in many ways. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around all of this, but I don’t blame you for wanting to be with my son. He’s a force to be reckoned with.” 

Sousuke nodded. “He really is.” 

They fell into silence, awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes. Sousuke unbuckled his seatbelt and sighed, not entirely sure what he was meant to feel now. All he could comprehend was exhaustion, really. 

“Well, you’re probably tired,” Mr Tachibana said, as if he’d read Sousuke’s mind. (He really was like Makoto, then.) He reached into the back and picked Sousuke’s boxed dinner up from the passenger seats before handing it to him. “It’s late.” 

Sousuke nodded and accepted the box. He popped the door open, and the cool, early September air touched his face. He hesitated, before turning and giving Mr Tachibana a short bow. “Um. Thanks for dinner. And for dropping me off.” 

Mr Tachibana snorted. “You’re welcome. And thank you, too.” 

Sousuke didn’t bother asking for a reason. He didn’t feel as if he had to, as hilariously confident as it sounded. He just gave another nod and a short, “good night,” before closing the car door and straightening. 

He watched the Tachibana’s car peel away and turn a corner, the styrofoam box in his hands and a cool wind ruffling his hair. The lights from the campus glowed from beyond the front gates, and even from here, the sounds of blasting music and cries of excitement could be heard. 

Sighing, he took out his phone and typed a quick text before turning to go back to the dorms. 

‘Me: I love you, Tachibana.’


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somewhat shorter update!? I've been SUPER busy lately, so I'm sorry for the delay. ^^; It'll probably be a little shaky for a while yet, but I'll do what I can! 
> 
> Basically everybody worries about Makoto, Kisumi needs a hug, Haru's done dealing with everyone's shit, there's some Tanaka x Sousuke bromance, and Sousuke needs to be sung a lullaby.

‘Makoto: Love you too, Yamazaki’  
Sent: 2.16 AM

The reply came the next morning, when Sousuke was sprawled out on his bed, drifting between consciousness and sleep. His phone chimed on the bedside table and settled the subconscious debate. Groaning, he forced himself to sit up and grabbed for it blindly, before bringing it to his face and punching in his password as he flopped back down onto the mattress. The message blinked down at him with a soft chirp. He smiled crookedly, a happy, innocent warmth feeling his chest. He was almost tempted to twist onto his stomach and bury his face in the pillow, he was so stupidly happy. 

Makoto loved him. Tachibana Makoto, with his cute little smiles and his raspy voice and his ridiculous freckles. Tachibana Makoto, with his sexy, crooked smirk and his ruffled hair and the determined glint he got in his green eyes when he was about to swim or run a lap. 

The taste of his skin, the sound of his breath, the feeling of his fingers dragging possessively down the clothing separating them… 

It gave Sousuke shivers just imagining about it. 

He felt like a fucking teenage girl, thinking like this, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never been in love before. It felt so ridiculously wonderful to know that Makoto knew, too. And that he returned his feelings. That was enough to blow Sousuke’s brains to smithereens. 

If Rin knew how he was feeling right now, he’d definitely cackle like a hyena. The bastard. 

The situation was less than ideal. He would’ve much preferred to tell Makoto that he loved him when they were face to face. Maybe in bed, cuddling while Makoto read to him. Or maybe on one of their late-night walks around campus, when they reached a quiet spot and no one was around to bother them. Something stupidly romantic like that. He’d never been one for romance, but Makoto would’ve thought it was perfect, and that was good enough. He certainly hadn’t anticipated saying it over text. Honestly, the more he thought about it the more he wanted to groan with regret. Why couldn’t he have gotten a hold of himself when Makoto said it originally?

Sousuke promised himself that he’d kiss Makoto and attempt again as soon as he saw him. A real, proper kiss, too. Not some shitty excuse for a peck on the lips. The type of kiss that made Makoto melt against him and blissfully purr, his hands coming up to curl in Sousuke’s hair and tug with a new desperation. Yeah, that would do nicely.   
He opened a new reply in their chat and typed in a new message. 

 

‘Me: Morning. How did you sleep? You alright?’ 

 

He didn’t expect a quick response. Makoto was probably still in bed. It had been an eventful night, and his last message had been sent around two in the morning. Without responsibilities like classes, Makoto was hardly an early bird. The poor thing was most likely going to sleep in until noon. 

Sighing, Sousuke got to his feet. For once he’d gotten up early, so he still had time to jog before classes began. He tugged on his workout clothes, stuck his earbuds in, and left his dorm alone.

The cool morning air did wonders on his mind. As soon he stepped outside and the September breeze hit his face, he was instantly calmed. Unlike most early mornings, it wasn’t that difficult falling into a good pace for running. Compared to the frazzled chaos of the day before and the constant noise, a rhythmic pace and the buzz of runner’s high felt fantastic. He drifted further and further away from the campus, following his and Makoto’s usual route and relying heavily on the signs he’d seen a thousand times. Checking up on his surroundings was something he had to do every couple of seconds, really. It would be a disaster if he ended up getting lost without Makoto to guide him back. 

He was just about to turn the corner to make his way back when a mess of bright pink curls caught his eye in the cafe he was passing. His step faltered as his eyes remained trained on the curls on the other side of the glass. Was that…?

It was. Without a doubt. Inside the cafe sat Shigino Kisumi, his familiar, violet gaze solemn as he spoke to the person that sat across from him. His hair had grown longer since the last time Sousuke had seen him, and there was a slight, rosy stubble lining his jaw. His mouth, usually turned up in a smirk, was turned down in an expression that seemed much too serious for his face. Sousuke couldn’t hear what he was saying because of the window separating them, but he was obviously in deep conversation with his companion, whose face was obstructed by a potted plant by the window. 

Sousuke frowned in confusion. What was Kisumi doing in Tokyo? Again? The last time Sousuke had seen him, he’d been on a hot, overpopulated dance floor, surrounded by girls, squawking in frustration as Makoto and Sousuke had slipped away to properly make out for the first time. As far as Sousuke was aware, Kisumi was studying in Iwatobi, and his last visit had been a special case. So why was he back?

He must’ve been staring pretty openly for a while, because Kisumi suddenly turned his head and their eyes clashed through the glass. Kisumi’s talking mouth stilled. He blinked a couple times, before cracking a familiar grin and straightening. He mouthed, ‘Sousuke!’ and held up a hand to wave. 

“Kisumi,” Sousuke said out loud, despite Kisumi not being able to hear him. He waved back, his frown deepening, and mouthed, ‘What are you doing here?’

Kisumi replied by enthusiastically beckoning him forward, an obvious invitation to come into the cafe so they could talk. His own curiosity getting the better of him, Sousuke obeyed, finding the entrance and slipping in. The warmth and chocolatey smell of the cafe hit him all at once, a nice contrast to the cool air outside. He took his earbuds out and glanced around for pink curls. 

“Sousuke! Over here!” Kisumi called, grabbing his attention. He was leaning in his chair to wave, that warm smirk comfortably taking up his face again. Sousuke made his way over and shoved his earbuds into the pocket of his basketball shorts. 

“Kisumi. Hey.” 

“Hey!” Kisumi chirped as he approached. “Long time no see. I was actually just about to come visit you and Makoto, after Haruka and I finished up with breakfast.” 

“Haruka…” Sousuke echoed. He glanced over at the man sitting opposite Kisumi and lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Ridiculously tidy hair, sharp blue eyes, and the faintest of pouts. Definitely Nanase. “Oh. Yo.” 

Nanase just nodded to him, obviously irked at being interrupted. He turned his attention back to Kisumi. “Don’t call me Haruka.” 

Kisumi smiled that infuriating smile at him. “Ah, right. Sorry, Haru-chan.”

“Drop the-”

“So, Sousuke,” Kisumi cut him off, looking up at Sousuke with friendly violet eyes. “How have you been? I didn’t expect to see you until later, but I guess fate decided our encounter couldn’t wait, huh?” 

“Uh, sure,” Sousuke agreed awkwardly. A frustrated scowl was already settling into place. “I’ve been… good. How’s Iwatobi? Have you destroyed it, yet?”

Kisumi laughed. “Nope. But I’m getting there.” He glanced around. “Hey, where’s your pretty boyfriend? I would’ve thought he’d be jogging with you.” 

“He’s with his parents,” Nanase replied, before Sousuke could say anything. 

Sousuke frowned at him. “How’d you know that?”

“I’m his best friend,” Nanase replied with a shrug. “Of course he’s going to tell me about this. We talked last night about what happened over the phone.” 

“So...You know that…” 

“Yeah.” Nanase’s eyes darkened. His hard expression slipped, and for a moment, he looked genuinely concerned and vulnerable. “Um. Thanks. For watching out for him yesterday.” 

Sousuke snorted. “Of course.”

“And for…” Nanase faltered and pouted in concentration, as if words of gratitude were especially hard for him. “For standing up to his dad last night, too. Makoto said he knows that really helped with their conversation after his dad came back.” 

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” 

He waited for Nanase to continue, to hopefully expand on what exactly had happened in the Tachibana’s hotel room the night before, but Nanase remained silent and fiddled with the rim of his coffee cup. He didn’t seem all that keen on continuing the conversation. Thanking Sousuke probably had drained him of any further intent to keep talking. 

“Wait, what?” Kisumi asked, breaking the silence. He looked between them with furrowed eyebrows. “What am I missing here? Did something happen to Makoto?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke said, just as Nanase said, “No.” They gave each other matching looks of annoyance, and Kisumi’s confused expression just deepened. 

“Well, which is it?” he said. He leaned forward. “Is Makoto okay?” 

“I… I think.” Sousuke winced. “He’s with his parents.” 

“Oh.” Kisumi’s shoulders relaxed, but his perplexed look didn’t fade. “Isn’t that good, though?”

“They’ve been arguing,” Nanase replied. He brought his mug to his lips and took a dainty sip, glancing solemnly out the window. “Been angry with each other for maybe a month, but they’re only just talking about it. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Wait, Makoto’s fighting with his parents?” Kisumi leaned back, as if the words had burned him. “We’re talking about the Tachibanas, right? I’m not just hearing this wrong?” 

Sousuke sighed heavily. “No, you’re hearing it right.”

“You sure? Tachibana Makoto, the saint of Iwatobi, is fighting with his kind and doting parents?”

“Yes.” Nanase and Sousuke huffed at the same time. 

“What the hell happened?” Kisumi asked, looking between them. “What could’ve possibly-”

“It’s really not our place to tell you,” Sousuke cut him off. “Look, it’s kind of a touchy subject. You can ask Makoto about it yourself, when he’s back from spending time with them.” 

Nanase nodded in agreement. “It’s nothing you should worry about.” 

“Of course it’s something I should worry about,” Kisumi protested. “He’s my friend. Is he alright? What does Sousuke ‘standing up’ to Mr Tachibana have to do with anything?” He paused and looked up at Sousuke. “Wait. It has something to do with you.” 

“Not… necessarily,” Sousuke grumbled, fidgeting. “I just ended up getting involved.” 

“Did his parents get mad about you two dating, or something?” 

“It wasn’t about that. Well, it might be now, but…” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kisumi’s eyes narrowed. “Sousuke, did you do something stupid?” 

“What? No!” Sousuke snapped, stiffening. “What the fuck could I have-” 

“Kisumi, ask him yourself. We’re not going to go into his personal stuff,” Nanase said shortly. His voice, cool and quiet, instantly forced the two of them into silence. As if he were some sort of shrimpy, jacket-clad prince. He took another sip of his drink and frowned over the rim. “Stop getting so worked up over it. It’s annoying.” 

“I’m just worried,” Kisumi insisted. “I mean, you don’t exactly hear about somebody like Makoto getting caught up in family drama too often. Does he need help?”

“No. He has to figure this out himself,” Nanase said. “Yamazaki and I… We’ve got it covered. If he needs help we’ll know about it.” 

Sousuke cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?” 

“Of course. We made a deal, didn’t we?” He met Sousuke’s gaze with a completely solemn expression, his voice hard with determination. “We’re the Tachibana protection program.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help it. He laughed. Hearing him say it so seriously…. It was probably more amusing than it should’ve been. And the slightly offended look Nanase gave him afterwards was only further encouragement. 

“Tachibana protection program…?” Kisumi echoed, frowning. “What the hell…?”

“It’s a very serious understanding Yamazaki and I have,” Nanase quipped, shooting Sousuke a glare. Sousuke couldn’t help another short laugh. “Or it should be serious, at least.”

“You know, for some reason I don’t feel all that reassured.”

“It’s really okay, Kisumi,” Sousuke said. He shrugged a shoulder. “Makoto’s going to be fine.” 

Kisumi pouted up at him. “That doesn’t sound all that comforting, either.” 

Nanase’s thin eyebrows crinkled in annoyance. “Just drop it, okay? You can ask him about it later. It’s none of your business unless he agrees to tell you, whenever that may be.”

“Fine,” Kisumi said, blowing a pink curl out of his face in frustration. “I guess that means I shouldn’t visit the campus, since he isn’t going to be there. Which sucks. I was hoping to invite him to go out again.” He glanced up at Sousuke. “You too, of course.” 

Sousuke wrinkled his nose. “Pass.” 

That prompted a laugh. “Hey, don’t forget. Last time we took you out dancing, it ended up going pretty well for you. If I recall, you got lucky that night.” 

Sousuke snorted, and Nanase rolled his eyes so hard that the world seemed to tip with the action. 

“Yeah, okay,” Sousuke said, scowling despite the flush in his face. He turned his attention on his watch, groaning inwardly when he saw the time. “Well, I better go. Classes start in an hour, and I still have to find my way back. I’ll leave you guys to….” He gestured vaguely between them. “Whatever this is. Is this a date, or something?” 

To his surprise, Nanase didn’t jump to his feet with a murderous intent and flames surrounding him. He just rolled his eyes again, and Sousuke was pretty damn sure he hadn’t imagined the color that rose to his cheeks. Kisumi made a sound between a squawk and a laugh, his face going almost as pink as his hair. 

“N-no, of course not!” he said, at an unnecessary volume that made Sousuke flinch. “Just catching up. Just… drinking coffee. Together. And talking about, um, stuff. Like coffee.” 

Sousuke lifted a skeptical eyebrow. He’d known Kisumi for years, and never before had he been one to be easily flustered about something like this. The Kisumi that Sousuke was used to was all sly smirks and careless flirting. To see him like this was oddly disorienting.

“Well, whatever this is, it’s none of my business,” he said, turning away and sticking a bud back in his ear. “So long, Kisumi. Nanase.” 

“See ya.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kisumi managed. “Hey, do me a favor and tell Makoto that I’m here, too, okay? If he needs to talk, or anything. I’m always around.” He looked down, the remaining color in his cheeks ripening. “Even if you guys are the ‘Tachibana protection program,’ or whatever, I’m available. For talking about this sort of stuff, that is.” He smiled. “I care about that hopeless cutie, too.”

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows in surprise. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Sure.”

Kisumi’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. I guess I’ll see you when I see you, then,” he replied shortly, and turned back to the door, waving over his shoulder as he stuck the other earbud back in. 

 

\---000---

To his disappointment, Makoto hadn’t replied to his text when he got back. He hadn’t expected Makoto to wake up early, but it still would’ve been nice to have some sort of confirmation that he was okay before Sousuke’s classes started. With no more room left for waiting, Sousuke showered, got dressed, and headed off to his first class, worry gnawing at the back of his mind. 

He trusted Makoto to stand up for himself. That much had been proven the day before, in the restaurant. Despite being one to avoid confrontation, (or anything, really, if it involved talking about himself,) Makoto knew how to stick with his argument. Especially in this situation, after bottling up his hurt and steering clear of his parents for a good couple weeks. Confronting them now was probably a form of release for him - all the anger and pain built up after his parents’ reaction to his sexuality was finally being realized.

No, it wasn’t a matter of Makoto standing up for himself. Sousuke was more concerned with how this was going to play out in the long run. He could only really see two things happening here - either Makoto made up with his parents and came to an understanding of sorts, or he cut off ties with them completely for the sake of being rid of their attitudes. It was a horribly dangerous situation to be in. If Sousuke knew anything about Makoto, it was that he loved his family to bits. He would give anything to be on good terms with them, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort with who he was. Before yesterday, he’d seemed pretty keen to just stay quiet until his parents forgot about the whole ordeal and forgave him. But if the day before had proven anything, it was that the Tachibanas weren’t going to let this go. They’d prompted a reaction out of him on purpose with the intent to scare him into submission, or whatever, , forcing Makoto to be terribly torn between his love for them and his outrage at their behavior. 

At this point, Sousuke could see it going either way. 

It was out of his hands. Maybe he’d had an impact last night, but now that he and Makoto were separated, he could safely consider himself as someone who wasn’t involved. Whatever happened next would be on the Tachibana family’s terms, and no one else’s. 

He just hoped Makoto was okay. 

It was all he could think about throughout his classes. He took notes like a machine, his pencil scratching along with the drone of his professors. He tried to concentrate, to get his mind off of his own stupid concern, but Makoto continued to resurface in the back of his mind. 

The night before, Sousuke had seen the most diverse change of expressions on Makoto’s face yet - dread, embarrassment, panic, fury, exhaustion, hurt, relief… Each expression he’d worn elicited a different feeling in Sousuke’s chest, most of them not being very pleasant feelings. His heart ached with a need to comfort Makoto, to kiss the tightness from his face and squeeze him until that warm laugh was forced to escape from his lungs. His knuckles pounded with the need to hit something, preferably one of Makoto’s parents, but more realistically a wall. His knee bounced under his desk with a sharp agitation he hadn’t felt since high school.

When his final class ended, Sousuke wasted no time gathering his stuff and heading for the door. A couple of friends, (no, more like friendly acquaintances,) greeted him as he went, but he didn’t bother anything more than a grunt of acknowledgement or half a smile. It was a relief to escape out into the September afternoon and just wander across campus, letting his mind empty itself out on its own accord. 

His phone felt like a brick in his pocket. 

He ended up wandering until seven, bought a quick dinner of cup o’ noodles at the campus’s measly convenience store, and made his way back to his dorm. The room was empty, which was a pleasant surprise. He flopped down onto his bed and finished his noodles off with a plastic spoon before dragging his study material closer. Might as well try to get something done. 

There was a knock on the door just as Sousuke was breaking out his second textbook. Sousuke looked up, his heart catching hopefully. Was it…?

Before he had the chance to finish the thought, the door opened and Tanaka’s scowling face poked itself in. His steely eyes surveyed the room before landing on Sousuke, and he huffed. 

“Yo. Have you kidnapped my roommate?” he demanded. 

Recovering from the shock of his sudden appearance, Sousuke lifted an eyebrow and returned the scowl. “What?” 

“Tachibana. Are you hiding him up here? He still hasn’t cleaned up his shit, and Rosi’s coming over in an hour to pick him up for that poetry thing.” Tanaka glanced around again with narrowed eyes. “Did you gag him and shove him under your bed, or something? It’s like I haven’t seen him for two days.” 

“Oh. No, he’s not here.” Sousuke looked back down to his textbook and flipped the page. “He’s with his family.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Tanaka tilted his head in confusion, and Sousuke couldn’t help but think that it was much cuter when Makoto did it. “I thought he and his parents were involved in some nasty shit.” 

Sousuke’s expression hardened. “How do you know about that?” 

“I’m his…” Tanaka began, but faltered. He hesitated, before giving a huff of defeat and rolling his eyes. “I’m his friend. And his roommate. And his mentor in all things pansexual, basically. It would make sense for me to have a vague idea of what’s going on.”

“...Hm.”

Tanaka gave him a look. “What? You think you’re the only person that deserves to talk to him, or something? Just because I don’t sleep with him-”

“No, no. That’s not what I…” Sousuke trailed off and gave an annoyed huff. “Geez. Calm the fuck down, you just surprised me.”

“Oh.” Tanaka’s shoulders relaxed. He frowned at the ground for a couple moments, before slipping into the room and crossing his arms over his chest. “So. Wanna tell me what’s happening, then?” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “You care that much?” 

“Sure.” Tanaka shrugged a shoulder. “Tachibana’s a good guy. I wanna know if something’s happening with him. Besides, if I know, then I can tell Rosi. If the situation is dire enough she’ll bake a cake to make him feel better.” 

Sousuke cracked a smile. “He’d probably like that.” 

“Exactly. So tell me what’s going on.” His chin tilted up insistently, he waltzed over to Fujioka’s bed and plopped down. “He’s okay, right?” 

“Yeah, as far as I can tell. He hasn’t texted me back, so I assume he’s busy, but...” Sousuke twisted to face him. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands, sighing. “I don’t know. I don’t think I should tell you without his consent. It’s… it’s some pretty personal stuff.”

Tanaka gave an unimpressed snort. “Rosi can’t make a cake unless you tell me.” 

Sousuke chuckled. “Fair enough. But still, it’s weird. I don’t even know you that well, so telling you about my boyfriend’s shit is kinda…” 

“I get it. It feels off.” Tanaka nodded in understanding. “But I really do want to know. And who knows? Maybe talking about it will help you, too.” 

“How?” 

“It can’t be easy, having a boyfriend who’s having sexuality issues with his parents. Tachibana’s not the only one affected. You’re probably a little worn for wear, too.” 

Sousuke fell into a surprised silence. For a number of reasons. Not only was he surprised that Tanaka had mentioned it, but he was a little taken aback with the realization that he hadn’t even considered how he was doing himself. Tanaka was right - He was exhausted. And worried. And really fucking frustrated with the current circumstances. His chest had been strung tight all morning and afternoon with worry, his head ached from mulling the subject over again and again, and there were little crescent moons in his pinkened palms from curling his hands into fists so much. 

He felt like shit.

“Yeah. I feel like shit,” he agreed, his voice tinged with awe at the realization.

Tanaka snorted in amusement. “Thought so. You know Yamazaki, you’re either the most dedicated boyfriend in the world or you’re really fucking stupid when it comes to yourself.” 

Sousuke scowled at him. “Shut up.” 

“Nah.” Supplying a shit-eating grin, Tanaka mirrored his pose and rested his elbows on his knees, clapping his hands together in a ‘let’s do this’ implication. “So. Tell me what the fuck is happening with my darling roommate, won’t you?” 

\---000---

Sousuke, being the absolute master of words that he was, explained the entire situation in a whopping span of seven minutes. Tanaka’s reactions were incredibly entertaining and animated, he came to find. His expression went from mildly bored to skeptical to furious, and it wasn’t until there was a very firm, angry line in his forehead that he began interrupting. Sousuke concluded that his interruptions were just as animated as his expressions.

“What the fuck, man.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“Who the fuck do these goobers think they are.” 

“Dipshits.” 

“Good for you, Tachibana.” 

“Hot damn.”

“Okay, no offense or anything but what the actual fuck.” 

Encouraged by the enthusiastic replies, Sousuke threw in his own personal commentary, which turned into a rather lengthy conversation that was made entirely out of the two of them swapping insults. Whatever this talk had been before was now just the both of them giving exaggerated, frustrated reactions to each other’s words. 

It was kinda nice, in its own way. Familiar. Talking to Tanaka sort of reminded Sousuke of conversations he’d had with Rin. It eased the hurt and concern a little, letting himself metaphorically regurgitate everything and get a reaction typical of a university freshman as a reply. 

It was hardly a thoughtful conversation, but it did help. Maybe, just maybe, Tanaka wasn’t as much of an asshole as Sousuke had thought. 

Or maybe they were both assholes but their similar levels of assholery were enough to cancel each other out. 

Tanaka left maybe thirty minutes later with a promise to have Rosi bake a cake, and a demand that he be updated on whatever happened next. When Sousuke gave him another skeptical look, a little disturbed by his insistence on being so involved, he just sniffed and shrugged an unimpressed shoulder. 

“Tachibana would do the same for me. Which is bothersome, because that makes me feel obligated. Besides, I’ve had my own sexuality shit to deal with. If I can help somebody’s transition into personal acceptance easier, than so be it, you know?”

Sousuke felt himself nod. “Yeah.”

“And, well.” He looked away and scratched the back of his head. “You and Tachibana… You’re really fucking gross, with your cute little romance, or whatever. But I am happy for you guys. And it would really suck if this happened to come between you two. So, you know. I don’t mind being updated on all this, for the sake of keeping an eye out for you guys.” 

“Come between us?” Sousuke echoed. 

“Yeah. I don’t know, man. I’ve, um…I’ve had...” Something akin to remorse flashed in Tanaka’s eyes, before he quickly turned away to slip back outside. “Whatever. Do what you want. I’ll have Rosi bake that cake for you and Tachibana, and I’ll tell her he won’t be able to come to the poetry thing. See ya.” 

The door clicked behind him before Sousuke could respond. 

\---000---

‘Me: Hope you had an ok day. I’m going to sleep now, so I figured I’d say goodnight’

‘Me: Love you. Text me when you can?’

‘Me: I miss your stupid face. It’s only been a day and I already want your ass back over here’ 

‘Me: preferably in my lap’ 

‘Me: Or I want to be in your lap’ 

‘Me: And I wanna make out with you so hard its fucking stupid’ 

‘Me: but you know also talk to you’

‘Me: Not just make out’ 

‘Me: Unless thats what you want to do’ 

‘Me: Ok I’m sorry goodnight.’ 

Sousuke groaned and dropped his phone to his chest, pouting at the ceiling. The light of his screen leaked across his shirt, offering a weak, bluish throb in the darkness of the dorm. Fujioka snored softly in the neighboring bed, occasionally smacking his lips and snorting. The dry wind outside whistled forlornly and tangled with the sounds of sleep until all Sousuke could comprehend was the wail of the breeze and the puff of Fujioka’s breath. Not the best lullaby, in his opinion. 

No, the best lullaby would be the thrum of rain against the window, the buzz of his desk lamp, a distant whisper of abandoned earphones, and Makoto’s puppy snores from where he was curled up at Sousuke’s side. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. His head ached from glaring at textbooks and a computer screen for so long, and his fingers felt numb from writing and sitting tensed against the slender sides of his phone. How late was it? One? Two? Definitely past midnight. If Fujioka was here and asleep, he could be sure that it was a ridiculous hour to still be awake.   
But his mind refused to settle. It wasn’t as if he had anything to think about, really. He’d already thought about everything there was to think about. All that remained to take up space in his head now was static, snippets of conversation from the day, half-finished daydreams, the feeling of his heart knocking softly against his chest. 

He scowled. When had he, Yamazaki Sousuke, ever had a problem with sleeping? He was the god of sleeping. Once, back in Iwatobi, he’d slept through an entire weekend, only waking up to grumble at Rin when he played music too loud. Rin literally had to drag him out of bed by his ankles to attend class. Even when he’d hit the floor, he’d managed to continue peacefully snoring. He vaguely remembered Rin threatening to smother him with a pillow. 

That had been a good weekend. 

Sighing heavily, he twisted onto his side and stared at his neighboring wall. What was different now? What was keeping him up? Stress, maybe. Or the pain in his head. Something like that. 

He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, but fuzzy sensation instantly flooded him as soon as his eyelashes grazed his cheeks. Flashes of color, voices he sort of maybe recognized, pictures of scenes from movies or paintings. Rin’s laugh, Makoto’s smile, Nitori’s shrill voice, his mother’s silver eyes, the pout of someone he’d seen on the train last weekend, a bouquet of flowers in his sister’s hands…

He opened his eyes again and sucked in sharply. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

His skin itching with frustration, he clicked his phone back on and opened his messages, the sudden light nearly blinding him. His thumb found an all-too familiar name at the top of the list of contacts: Rin. Maybe chatting with him would help. If he were still awake, that is. 

He was just about to punch in a casual greeting when his phone buzzed with a new message. His eyebrows shooting up, he opened it immediately. 

 

‘Makoto: Hey, Sou! I’m so sorry for not replying. It’s been a… busy day. ^^; How are you? Are you still awake?’

 

Sousuke wasted no time in replying, his fingers fumbling over the screen as he struggled to type something in under the glaring light of the screen. 

 

‘Me: holy shit hi. I’m fin, but how are you? What happened? Are you ok?’ 

‘Makoto: haha yeah I’m ok. Just tired. Do you know if Rosi chan came to pick me up for poetry night? I feel so bad I only remembered it was today a couple hours ago’ 

 

Sousuke scowled at his phone. That’s what Makoto was concerned about? 

 

‘Me: had Tanaka tell her you weren’t coming.’ 

‘Makoto: Ahhh that’s good! I wouldnt want her to wait around for me. I’ll have to apologize later’

‘Me: yeah ok but srsly. What happened? Are you alright? How’d it go with your parents?’ 

 

Makoto didn’t reply at first. For a couple tense moments, Sousuke just stared at the screen, his jaw set. Annoyance was just beginning to settle in his skin when the small loading bubble popped up, signalling that Makoto was typing. Sousuke forced himself to relax. 

 

‘Makoto: I’m alright. I’m not going to lie its been a rough couple of days. There was a lot of fighting after you left last night. and crying. There was a lot of crying too.’ 

 

Sousuke tensed again, the hand not holding the phone curling in anger. 

 

‘Me: they made you cry??’ 

‘Makoto: No!’

‘Makoto: ...Well yeah. But I think I made them cry more than they made me cry tbh. I was more angry than anything. They were too but I think fighting with me really got to them. Specially after tucking the twins in.’ 

‘Makoto: look can we please talk about this tomorrow? Theyre leaving in the morning and dropping me off around 7. I can explain then? Sorry im just really tired and theres a lot to talk about.’ 

‘Me: sure. As long as you’re okay…’ 

‘Makoto: I am now I swear. Just really tired. I wanted to text you back before I turned in cause I saw your messages. Didnt have the chance before.’ 

‘Me: Im glad you did. I may or may not have been a lil concerned. Sort of.’ 

‘Makoto: you love meeeeeee~’

‘Me: Shut up.’

‘Makoto: Nahh.’

‘Me: you are so lucky you’re cute Tachibana.’ 

‘Makoto: (~^3^)~ goodnight, Sousuke’

‘Me: Night.’ 

‘Me: Oi.’

‘Makoto: Hm?’

‘Me: ……. I love you.’ 

‘Makoto: I love you too, you big dork. Go to sleep already.’ 

‘Me: lmao fine’ 

 

Smiling softly, Sousuke turned his phone off and set it on the bedside table. He stretched, his back arching, and smirked into the darkness. His eyelids drifted closed, and this time, he was slightly less bothered when his mind still swam with unfinished thoughts. 

He’d fall asleep eventually.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sees comment number is 420* Lmao lit
> 
> (For real though thank you guys so much for the lovely comments it warms my tender heart and I love talking to you lil munchkins. Okay I'm sorry that's all I wanted to say.)
> 
> Psst. If you look closely, you can see the shade I'm throwing at the soumako fandom. *throws glitter*
> 
> WTF THIS IS SO LONG WHY CAN'T I CONTROL MYSELF

Sousuke was a little more than disappointed when he woke up early with a headache and a terrible lack of Makoto in his arms. 

He groaned and sat up, reaching out blindly for his phone. Fujioka was still sleeping in the neighboring bed, his head slipping off the edge of the mattress and his blonde curls hanging suspended near the floor. He was making weird snorting sounds still, the type of noises that made Sousuke’s nose wrinkle in distaste. Hearing his roommate gargle spit upside down this early in the morning was a little less than ideal. 

Huffing, he glanced out the window. Could he even say it was morning? It was still mostly dark out. The only real sign of the sun was the rosiness delicately touching the leaves of the tree outside their building. He clicked his phone on and checked the time - about five o’clock. 

Shit. He’d only gotten about three hours of sleep, then. And rather fitful sleep, too. What was wrong with him? 

He laid back down and tried to fall back asleep, but now that his mind was working, there was no way it was going to cool again. All he could comprehend was the hum of the dorm’s heater and Fujioka’s snores. The sounds took up his mind, forcing him to focus on them. 

He gave up after ten minutes or so. Grumbling, he kicked the covers off and forced himself to his feet, running a rough hand through his sleep-spiked hair. With nothing better to do, he snagged the spine of one of his textbooks and wandered around the dorm with it. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he read, his mind too heavy to really process the words he was drinking in. 

He shot his bed a bitter look every now and then. He wanted to sleep, but he had no intentions of dealing with the frustration of having fried senses again. It was probably too late, anyways. He’d be leaving for his jog in an hour or two, and after that he’d have to go to class. If it took as much time to fall back asleep as it had taken the night before, there was no way he was going to be able to fit a wink in. 

He paused his wandering and growled. His head pounded. 

Although, maybe this wasn’t so bad. Makoto would probably be proud of him, for actually waking up this early by himself. He didn’t usually get the chance to see the world like this- all hazy and fresh and quiet. This could be good for him. He wasn’t all too fond of the headache, but it was what it was. 

He ended up getting dressed in his work out clothes and therapy brace an hour early and left the dorm with a restless itch in his skin and an ache in his temples. For a good portion of the time he just briskly walked around the campus with earbuds in, steadily warming up his legs and letting his mind droop under the calm hum of the music. It wasn’t often that he jogged around the campus, (he and Makoto usually took advantage of the winding sidewalks of the city,) so it was a nice change of pace, entertaining himself with the somewhat familiar area. Especially when the walkways were so empty and quiet, not filled with screeching and laughing young adults. 

He worked his way up to a jog just as students began filing out of the dorm buildings to attend earlier classes or hit the library beforehand. His therapy brace drew some looks, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too caught up in the relief of being distracted by the burn of his muscles.

It was odd. His mind was empty of any significant thoughts, but at the same time was muddled with vague things he couldn’t latch onto and distinguish. His head didn’t falter it's pounding. It thumped painfully with the fall and push of his sneakers. He did his best to ignore it. If he focused on one little detail at a time, maybe his mind would settle for a moment and stop aching so much…

“Watch out!” a girl shrieked suddenly as he was jogging up the final pathway, and Sousuke barely managed to leap out of the way of her bicycle. She struggled to stay upright as she passed, glancing over her shoulder with a strange mixture of annoyance and concern in her eyes. “Watch where you’re going, freshmen! Don’t get yourself killed before the break!” 

“Sorry,” he managed to choke out in reply, too softly for her to hear. He turned and began jogging again, almost immediately falling back into his muddled slump, his head ringing with a new determination at the interruption. 

“Comin’ through, kid,” a senior grunted not five minutes later, narrowly missing him as he breezed past on his skateboard. 

Barely two minutes passed before Sousuke nearly ran into a guy with an armful of books. The guy didn’t reply to nearly being knocked over, but gave him an irritated look that reeked of, ‘watch where you’re going, buddy,’ before hurrying off. 

His head swimming, Sousuke stumbled back into the safety of the grass, out of the way of passing students. He bent over and clutched his knees, trying to catch his breath. The corners of his vision flushed red, and his head wailed. What the fuck was happening to him? 

It was the lack of sleep. It had to be. That, and the vicious headache, of course. 

“Pull yourself together,” he grumbled under his breath, massaging his temples. He slapped his cheeks until they stung and straightened. Swallowing the pain and focusing his mind as much as possible, he took off again. 

He just had to get back to the dorms. That’s all he needed. 

\---000---

When he got back, Fujioka was gone. Which was a nice surprise, since Fujioka was around a lot in the mornings. Sousuke wasted no time in taking advantage of the privacy and stripping down to his boxer briefs, groaning. He switched the heater by the wall off and opened the window instead with hopes that the cool air would soothe his head. It didn’t, but the September breeze did feel kinda nice against his face. 

Huffing, he sat down on the edge of his bed and reached for some jeans to pull on. The coarse fabric made his legs itch and feel incredibly constricted. He glared down at them. Had he grown out of them, somehow? Or was it just his fried mind playing tricks on him? 

He stood and picked his way over to the long, post-it note clad mirror behind Fujioka’s bed. The jeans didn’t look too small on him… Maybe a little tight in the calves and thighs, but if anything, they were loose in the ass, from what he could see. He twisted to study himself with an annoyed frown. 

His attention, however, was easily distracted by the toned muscle of his bare stomach and arms. He tilted his head and ran a hand down his abs, pleased to feel the significant rise and fall of each one. Not bad. Not as good as he’d been in high school, but that could hardly be helped. His pectorals looked good, too. A little on the deflated side for his taste, but still pretty good, considering. He made a mental note to pay them some extra attention the next time he went to the gym. 

He was just lifting his arms to check out his biceps when the door suddenly clicked open and an all too familiar voice spoke up. 

“Hey, Sousuke, are you….Oh.” 

Sousuke gulped, his face flushing with embarrassment. He stood frozen there for a couple seconds, his arms still raised and flexing, before letting them fall. He could feel his heartbeat in his cheeks, he was blushing so furiously. Dammit all. 

Makoto let out a puff of laughter after a couple seconds. “Well, then.” 

“Not one more word out of you, Tachibana,” Sousuke growled, holding up a finger in warning. “Not. One. More. Word.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Makoto replied in a tone that was much too innocent. “It’s just a pleasant surprise, coming back to find you flexing at the mirror in my jeans.”

Makoto’s jeans. So that’s why they hadn’t fit right. 

“Shut up,” Sousuke grumbled, at a lack of anything better to say. 

Makoto laughed. “You look good in them. Maybe I’ll have to buy you a pair for your birthday. I’d give you those, but I’m kinda fond of that particular pair. Besides, they don’t seem to fit you very well in the-”

“Please just shut up,” Sousuke said. He twisted on his heel and stalked over to where Makoto stood at the door, grasping his face and forcing him into a firm kiss. Makoto grunted in surprise but didn’t shy away. His hands fell to Sousuke’s waist, fingers hooking in his belt loops and tugging their bodies closer. Their lips fell into a gentle, pressing rhythm, dry and soft and sweet. Sousuke massaged his jaw with his thumbs, cupping his throat reverently and tickling the chestnut hair at the nape of his neck.

When they broke apart, Sousuke wasted no time in wrapping Makoto up in a tight hug. Makoto let out an amused sigh and hugged him back. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“What happened?” 

“A lot. I’ll tell you in a second. Just let me…” Makoto sighed, his breath tickling Sousuke’s cheek. “Just let me enjoy this. I feel like I haven’t touched you in forever.” 

Sousuke snorted. “It’s only been a day.” 

Makoto squeezed him tighter. “A very long day.”

They swayed slightly, and Sousuke closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he had for the last forty-eight hours. He pulled back just far enough to kiss the tip of Makoto’s nose, prompting a pleased sigh and a smile. Makoto rubbed his bare back with such softness in his fingertips that it made Sousuke feel like a person made of china. 

“You feel so good,” Makoto mumbled, bumping their noses together. His fingers traced the curve of Sousuke’s spine. “All muscly and soft at the same time. I should have you shirtless more often.” 

Sousuke chuckled. “The feelings are mutual.” 

“Mmm. We should put a ban on shirts.” 

“And pants.” 

“I don’t know, I kinda like seeing you walk around in my jeans…” 

“How about we can only wear clothes if it’s the other person’s clothing.” 

Makoto smiled one of his heartbreaker smiles. “I’m dating a genius.” 

“I’m a little offended that it’s taken you this long to realize that,” Sousuke said, and Makoto laughed. Smirking triumphantly, Sousuke tugged him forward. “Shall we move this cuddlefest to bed?” 

Makoto hummed in agreement, studying Sousuke’s face through lowered eyelashes as they fell onto the mattress together. His smile fell after a moment. “Are you okay? You look a little tired.”

“Fine. Just didn’t sleep well last night,” Sousuke replied, wrinkling his nose in distaste. 

Makoto lifted his eyebrows. “You?” 

“Yeah. I was surprised, too.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “My head’s been acting up as well.” 

“Do you need an aspirin? I’ve got some downstairs in my dorm-” 

“I’m fine. Really,” he insisted. He smoothed the pad of his thumb over Makoto’s cheek. “Tell me what happened.” 

Makoto looked down, nodding. “Yeah, okay. Look, since we’re back on that subject, I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for not texting you yesterday. I was really busy, and I really wanted to, but my phone died at some point and I-” 

“Makoto, it’s fine. I mean, I would’ve preferred if you had sooner, but I get it.” 

He winced. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing,” Sousuke groaned. “It’s okay. You had more pressing things going on.” 

Makoto didn’t look very convinced, but he offered a nod of agreement. “Okay. Well, um, what do you want to know? I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Start from the beginning.”

“...Alright. After you left that night, my mom and I kinda ignored each other until my dad came back from dropping you off. I got some time with the twins, and they both calmed down enough to go to bed. They were afraid I’d leave or start yelling again though, so I stayed with them until they fell asleep. After that my dad came back, and we all sat down at the table and started talking.” 

Sousuke felt himself relax. “Just talking.” 

“Yeah. Well, it was less talking and more… quiet arguing. We ‘dissected’ the situation, as my dad put it, and it turns out the both of them thought I was using my sexuality as an excuse to… well, sleep around.” He laughed nervously. “Dad mentioned you’d been told that, too.” 

Sousuke rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “Uh, yeah.” 

“I was really angry about that,” Makoto admitted. “It was like… Like they were forcing their insensitivity onto me. Like they would believe that I’d use it as an excuse over actually being genuine with it, if that makes sense. It just…” He let out a hard sigh. “It infuriated me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad in my life. And yeah, I know it isn’t saying much, since I don’t anger that easily, but…” 

Sousuke nodded. “I understand.” 

“I exploded after that. Well, I’d already kinda exploded on them, but this time I really threw them off guard. I pretty much lectured them about how not everyone is as insensitive and ignorant as they are, and about how disgusted I was that they’d believe I’d use a legitimate term for my own personal gain. And that I’d lie to them, on top of that.” 

He smiled weakly and ran a hand through his hair, the long strands falling back to rest against the bridge of his nose. “They both cried. A lot. I feel like the majority of the night was spent at that little hotel table, watching them cry. I didn’t understand a lot of what they said, but they kept going on about not wanting to lose me and making mistakes and how they were so worried about how this was going to affect my future. I was still mad, but I’ve never seen my parents cry before, so it kinda… eased the tension, I guess? A little. We argued some more, but most of it was just talking and reassurance and stuff.” He met Sousuke’s eyes. “We talked about you.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows, feeling something between dread and curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It was weird, because they took the news of us dating much better than they took the news of my sexuality,” Makoto said. He shrugged. “Well, they had assumed I was sleeping around before, so maybe hearing that I was in a relationship had been comforting.”

Sousuke couldn’t help a tense laugh. “Probably.” 

“They asked me all sorts of questions about you. Like how I realized I liked you, where you took me for our first date, how you treat me, what Haru thinks of you, if we’ve ever had sex…” Makoto shuddered. “It was horrible. Worse than the crying, I think.” 

Sousuke laughed again, his voice strained. “And what did you tell them?” 

“Well, I told them the truth. More or less. I might’ve left out some details…” Makoto mumbled, looking away and turning pink. “I decided it was best not to tell them we got together after you kissed me in a bar. And then took me home to make out in the dark with next to no clothes on.” 

Sousuke winced. “Good call. And… What did you say when they asked you if we’ve had sex?” 

“Well, in the moment, I figured that oral sex doesn’t count, so I said we hadn’t,” Makoto said, turning a darker shade of pink. He offered what was probably supposed to be an enthusiastic smile. “So as far as my parents are concerned, I’m still a virgin!” 

“...You weren’t a virgin when we started dating, either.” 

“Yeah, but my parents don’t have to know that.” 

Sousuke snorted, a painfully wide smile coming to his face. “What happened to being completely honest with them?” 

“Well, I’m not exactly being dishonest, if they never ask…” Makoto replied, laughing nervously. He swept his hair back again, and this time it managed to stay out of his face for a couple extra seconds. “The rest of their questions were so embarrassing. I mean, the other ones had been too, but then they started asking about the safety and logistics of ‘man on man’ sex. I told them I wouldn’t exactly know anything about that, so they asked if you knew anything about it, and I said I didn’t know, and then they went off on a tangent about how I should be with someone who can take care of me and won’t hurt me…” His shoulders slumped and he groaned. “I don’t know if they just assume I’m the bottom in this relationship, or…” 

Sousuke burst into laughter. His head pounded in protest, but he couldn’t help it. He rested his forehead against Makoto’s shoulder and attempted to get a hold of himself, choosing to ignore Makoto’s huff of annoyance. 

“Hey. It wasn’t that funny,” Makoto said, pinching his thigh. “Stop giggling.” 

“I’m not giggling,” Sousuke said once he sat up. His wide smirk refused to leave, despite his efforts to pull his mouth into a sympathetic frown. “Poor, poor Makoto. Destined to always be a bottom. From the mouths of his ancestors…” 

“Shush,” Makoto said, but an amused smile of his own was tugging at his lips. He poked Sousuke in the ribs. “Do you want to hear the rest or not?” 

“Yeah, sorry. Go ahead.” 

“Well, I ended up going to bed at, like, five in the morning. We all slept in until noon, and then I spent a lot of time taking the twins to some of my favorite places. Parks where we jog, pet shops, icecream stores… That sort of thing. It was fun, and I got to have some real alone time with them, but I still felt really nervous and tired about everything, so we turned in early. Well, they did. I ended up catching a ride to see Nagisa and Rei compete at nationals, which was great.”

Sousuke nodded. “Right. They’re in town.” 

Makoto beamed. “Yeah. They did really well, too! Both of them have come so far, and they had some great additions to the team. They even managed to recruit some girl members, who made it to regionals last week and came to cheer the boys on. It was so great, getting to meet all of them and seeing how the club’s been doing without Haru and I.” 

“Where did they place?” 

“The guys’ team placed seventh in relay. Which isn’t bad at all, considering. You should’ve seen them Sousuke, they did so great. Rei’s such a good coach, and both he and Nagisa have progressed so much.” He smiled nervously and looked away. “I might’ve been a little jealous. I know that’s so awful of me to say, but seeing them do such a good job leading the team… I couldn’t help feeling a bit of envy along with the pride, you know? It made me wish I could’ve been there, too, to help them as much as possible. It’s hard, knowing that I’m not part of that team anymore.” 

Sousuke nodded, following his gaze down to their laps. “I know how you feel. Leaving Samezuka was tough for me, too. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for Rin, seeing as he was the captain and all, but it still was hard. Like saying goodbye to a big family.” 

“Yeah,” Makoto agreed. His gaze softened. “I wish you could’ve come with me. It was like travelling back in time. And I got to see some of the Samezuka swimmers, too.” 

Sousuke looked up. “Yeah?” 

“Mmhm. Nitori-kun and Momo-kun were there. They both swam the relay as well.” Makoto let out an amused puff. “And of course they brought a whole fleet of supporters along with them. Iwatobi had much more supporters this year, and they were still only a quarter of the Samezuka numbers.” 

“Where did they place?” Sousuke asked, leaning forward despite himself. 

Makoto smiled that infuriatingly knowing smile. “Sixth. They did fantastic, to nobody’s surprise. Just a hair ahead of Iwatobi, too. Nitori also swam the 400m breastroke and placed fifth.” 

Sousuke’s shoulders relaxed. He gave a satisfied sigh. “Good. That’s… That’s really good. Great for them. I’ll have to tell Rin, if Nitori hasn’t already bombarded him with emails.” 

Makoto laughed. “He and Momo-kun probably have. They’re just like I remember them. Although, Nitori-kun’s gotten considerably taller….” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Nope.” Makoto’s smile widened. “He comes up to my chin now. Momo-kun’s still pretty short, but if he’s anything like his brother, he’ll shoot up like a beanstalk.” 

“Did you see Seijuro, too?” 

“Of course. The moment he saw me, he cornered me and started talking about how proud he was of his little brother and how excited he was to see how it would all turn out. Holy shit, Sousuke. He’s gotten so big. I thought he was going to eat me, when he first came charging towards me. He grabbed my shoulders and I swear to you, my life flashed before my eyes.” 

Sousuke laughed. “I’m not surprised.” 

“He’s so nice, though,” Makoto said, shaking his head and chuckling. “Like a big, flame-haired teddy bear. He didn’t leave my side once the entire time, and kept going on about how I should’ve gotten a scholarship at his university so we could hang out and swim together. He asked about my family, too. I didn’t even know he knew I had siblings. To be honest with you, I kinda thought he was hitting on me, up until the point we met up with Gou-chan and he practically threw himself at her feet.” 

Sousuke’s small smile went tense on his face, the brotherly protectiveness he’d been harboring since Gou was a baby becoming his main focus. “And… how did she react to that?” 

“Like she usually does,” Makoto said, shrugging. “She turned him down gently when he asked her to go out with him, but let him buy her a pretzel. He was obviously disappointed. Wouldn’t stop mumbling to himself about ‘getting more muscle’ and ‘impressing the hell out of her next time.’ Gou-chan was very amused. She told me to reassure you that she still thinks you and I have the best muscles in the country. And something about ‘size not determining quality.’”

Sousuke snorted, a little more than relieved that Seijuro hadn’t managed to charm his way into Gou’s business… yet. Honestly, that big, easily excited idiot had an eery ability to get whatever he wanted with that wide smile of his. Thankfully Gou seemed smart enough not to let him win her over so easily. 

“My mom picked me up after I had dinner with the team, and we spent the majority of the night at their hotel room, playing card games and stuff,” Makoto continued. “It was really nice, having that family familiarity for a little bit, even if things between my parents and I were really awkward. We almost started fighting again on multiple occasions, but the twins kept us in line.” He chuckled fondly. “I swear, if anyone can handle a room full of irritated Tachibanas, it’s Ran.”

Sousuke smiled. “In all honesty, she kinda reminds me of my mom.” 

Makoto blinked in surprise for a moment, before bursting into soft laughter. Soft, tinselly laughter that made Sousuke’s heart tickle. Holy shit, did he love him. 

“Your mom must be quite a handful, then,” Makoto said. “Ran certainly is.” 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty bearable for someone of her age.”

Makoto winced. “Get back to me on that when you’ve lived with her for nine years. She runs our home with an iron fist, but her weapon of choice will always be a water gun or fart machine.” 

“Yup. Definitely my mom.” 

Makoto chuckled, lifting a hand to his mouth as if he wasn’t sure if he should stifle it or not. “I guess you had to inherit your questionable sense of humor from somewhere.” 

“Asshole,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes and shoving him lightly. “Did anything else happen after that, or did the day come to a conclusion at the mercy of your little sister?” 

“Um… Not exactly,” Makoto said, his smile becoming strained. He cleared his throat and shifted. “After I put the twins to bed, my parents and I got in another argument, because Ran and Ren had been asking about the fight before and I told them it was because of who I wanted to love. Mom and dad were a little… irked, with how ‘casually I’d talked to them about sexuality,’ and how ‘they shouldn’t be concerned with those sort of things at their age.’” 

Sousuke sat back, his hands curling into fists. “Are you serious? After all that, they’re still-”

“Yeah,” Makoto said, with a hard huff. “I guess I can sorta see where they’re coming from, considering how uncomfortable they are about it, but it still made me mad. We argued some more, and then we got on the subject of you again and started arguing about how open we are with our relationship, even though we’re hardly very public, and I just…” He huffed again and made vague gestures to the room around them. “I’m frustrated.” 

“I’m hardly ecstatic about hearing it, either,” Sousuke said, a scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth. He flopped back onto the mattress and glared at the ceiling. “What the fuck? When I was talking to your dad, he actually seemed sort of okay with it. He was talking about how I’m ‘a good man,’ or whatever. And I told him so much embarrassing stuff about how I feel about you, too.” 

There was a long pause, before Makoto leaned over him with a curious expression. The corner of his lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “‘Embarrassing stuff about how you feel about me?’”

Fuck. 

“I mean, he was asking about us, and I wasn’t about to lie to your dad, so…” 

“What exactly did you say that was so embarrassing?”

“Nothing,” Sousuke grumbled, looking away. He could feel a touch of heat rising to his face. “Just, you know, that I like you, and…yeah.” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto hummed, his smile widening. He braced his arms on either side of Sousuke’s body, the mattress creaking at the change of position. Sousuke gulped. “You told my dad about your embarrassing feelings for me? Any particular embarrassing feelings?” 

“No,” Sousuke growled, suddenly very aware that he was shirtless and wearing Makoto’s jeans. (Which were still very tight in all the wrong places.) “Nothing I’d care to elaborate on.” 

“Not even a little bit?” 

“Nope.” 

“So… My dad knows more about how you feel about me than I do. That’s hardly fair.” Makoto tilted his head and pouted down at him, his cinnamon hair shifting softly against his cheeks. 

“Yeah, nice try,” Sousuke said, lifting a hand to pat his cheek teasingly. “I’m not falling for those puppy-dog eyes. My embarrassing feelings will stay between me and your father, thank you very much.” 

“You’re so rude,” Makoto mused. He placed a finger against Sousuke’s chin, letting it fall slowly down his throat until it rested against his collarbone, pressing insistently. Sousuke resisted a shuddering breath at the touch. “The puppy-dog eyes aren’t working at all?”

Sousuke met his gaze and smirked. “Nope. I’m pretty much immune.”

Makoto batted his eyelashes. “Please?”

“No way. Anything I said to your dad…” He paused and swallowed a gasp as Makoto’s finger drifted down his bare chest, feather-light and teasing. “...Isn’t worth mentioning.” 

“C’mon, just give me a hint about what you said about me.” 

“No.” 

“It’s that embarrassing?” 

“...No, I just don’t want to tell you.” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto groaned. “Tell me. I’m going to think it’s cute, so you shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He pressed the pad of his finger against the sensitive skin just below Sousuke’s navel, and Sousuke forced them both to sit up, shivering at the tender touch. Makoto huffed in frustration. 

“For the record, I said embarrassing stuff about you, too,” he said. 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Makoto looked away and flushed. “I mean, of course I did. I was kinda trying to convince my parents that it wasn’t a mistake to date you, so…” 

Sousuke’s heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?” 

“Well, I actually wrote something, because we couldn’t talk about you without raising our voices, and my dad’s always been big on ‘expressing myself through writing,’ so it seemed like a good idea for me to just write it all down instead. My mom also lost her voice around noon, so she agreed that it would be better to read what I had to say.” He caught himself and held up a finger in warning, his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink. “But no way am I telling you if you don’t tell me. That’s not fair.” 

“Wait, so you wrote stuff about me?” Sousuke asked. His eyes fell to Makoto’s hands for some reason. As if he expected to see evidence, like ink stains or paper cuts. He forced himself to meet Makoto’s gaze again. “Like the poem that you wrote for the poetry night, then. The one that made everybody start calling me Mr Caribbean Eyes.” 

“S-sort of. But it’s not a poem. It’s just a little… I don’t know, a little explanation of how I feel about you, since I couldn’t say it outloud without stuttering like an idiot.”   
Makoto laughed nervously. “It kinda worked, too. After my parents read it, they eased up on the subject. I don’t think they approve, per se, but they do like you. Especially my dad. I’m not sure what you guys talked about that night, but he has a higher opinion of you than my mom does at least.” 

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s… good.” Sousuke winced. “Can I read it?” 

“A-ah. Um, I guess so,” Makoto mumbled, glancing down and smiling anxiously at his lap. “If you want. It’s really rough, and really cheesy. I ended up getting lost in an extended metaphor, and I haven’t even looked at it since my parents read it, but…” He froze and looked up suddenly. “But only if you tell me what you said to my dad.” 

“I told you, I didn’t really say anything,” Sousuke protested. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat come to his face. “Geez. You’ll show me what you wrote if I tell you?” 

Makoto hesitated but nodded. “Sure.” 

“Okay. Well, um. I didn’t say much. He asked if I’m in love you, and I said I was. Because I am. And then he asked me how I knew, and I just sorta… Fuck, I can’t even remember what I said. Something about how I always want to be around you, and how I want you to take up space with your laugh, and that whenever I see you I want to, um, touch you.” He resisted the urge to drag a hand down his flushed face. “And yeah. I basically just spouted a bunch of sappy shit about how great you are and how I always want to kiss your stupid face. Because I do.” He forced himself to meet Makoto’s gaze. “I’m… kinda in love with you, you know. That’s pretty much all I said. I just gave him the long version.” 

Makoto went quiet. His nervous smile had faded, leaving his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide. He blinked at Sousuke, and for a terrifying moment Sousuke wondered if he was going to start crying. 

“Sousuke,” he breathed, and his smile returned, wide enough and bright enough to put a meadow of flowers to shame. He laughed. “That was probably the cutest-” 

“Shut up.” Determined to distract them both from the heat in his face, Sousuke pinched Makoto’s chin and tugged him closer, pressing their lips firmly together. Makoto melted into his touch without protest. He smiled into the kiss, his muffled chuckles preventing Sousuke from deepening it any further. 

“Stop giggling,” he growled after pulling away. He gave Makoto a scolding look. “I’m trying to make out with you.” 

Makoto’s smile grew, and Sousuke swore he heard a chorus of angels singing somewhere. “I can’t help it. Nobody’s ever… Nobody’s ever said anything like that to me. It’s   
exciting.” He laughed again, light and breathy. “My heart’s pounding so fast right now.” 

“Well, calm it down.” Sousuke poked him in the chest. “I’m trying to be romantic, here.” 

“I can’t!” Makoto covered his blushing face with his hands and leaned away. Sousuke leaned with him, poking his knuckles with his nose and frowning in annoyance. Makoto groaned. “Stop being cute, it’s not helping.” 

“I’m not cute. I’m frustrated with you.” 

“Well, when you’re frustrated it’s cute, so stop.” 

“I can’t not be frustrated with you.” Sousuke pinched him in the side and huffed. “And I’m. Not. Cute.” 

“Yes you are,” Makoto whined. He peered through his fingers, and Sousuke lifted his eyebrows hopefully. Makoto burst into nervous laughter again and pushed him away with a hand against his cheek. “Stopppp.” 

“I’m not doing anything!” 

“Yes, you are! You’re making puppy-dog faces at me!” 

“I don’t make puppy-dog faces.” 

“You do, too. You’re doing it right now!” 

“I am not!” 

“Yes you are!”

Grumbling in annoyance, Sousuke grasped Makoto’s wrists and tried to peel them away from his face. They fell away with some resistance, leaving a very pink Makoto with pink cheeks and a wide, nervous smile. Sousuke snorted. “You’re insufferable, Tachibana.” 

“So are you.” 

“Are you done giggling, or can I kiss you, now?” 

“You can try. I make no promises.”

Rolling his eyes but smiling despite himself, Sousuke leaned forward and pressed their mouths together. Makoto chuckled into the kiss but didn’t pull away. His warm hands snaked up Sousuke’s bare chest and cupped his neck softly. Fingers massaged the columns of his throat, and if a certain someone hadn’t been smiling uncontrollably, Sousuke probably would’ve sighed at the rhythmic touch. 

“Alright. A deal’s a deal. I told you my embarrassing thing, so now you have to show me yours,” he said when they separated. “I get to read what you wrote about me, now.”   
Makoto winced, his hands falling from Sousuke’s throat. “Ugh. There’s no way I can get out of that?”

“Not a fucking chance.” 

“...Fine. P-promise you won’t laugh.” 

“I’m not going to laugh.” Sousuke snorted. “I’m not you.” 

“You’re very rude, you know that?” Makoto grumbled. He straightened just enough to pull something out of his back pocket - a messily folded piece of notebook paper, with a child’s doodle on the back. Sousuke assumed it was by one of the twins, since it was a crude stick figure with scrappy hair and the word ‘ONII-CHAN’ written in sparkly, gooey purple pen. Makoto unfolded it carefully, and Sousuke couldn’t help but give a soft smile when he noticed how those slender fingers shook ever so slightly. 

“Geez, this is a lot longer than I thought it was,” Makoto whispered, gnawing on his lip as he took in what he’d written. 

“Lemme see.” 

“No,” Makoto burst, holding the piece of paper to his chest and leaning away. When Sousuke gave him a confused expression, he let out a short, anxious laugh. “Sorry. Instinct.”

“Okay. Let me see, then? Or read it out loud.” 

Makoto blanched. “N-no way am I reading this out loud. No, no, no. No, it would probably better if you just read it.”

“That’s fine. Wanna… actually give it to me?”

Makoto hesitated, his ears a dusty pink, before holding out the piece of paper for Sousuke to take. Sousuke took it delicately by the corner and brought it forward to rest in his lap, brushing his thumbs reverently over the coarse paper as he began to read. 

 

“Yamazaki Sousuke is a silver storm.   
His eyes are like the snap of lightning amidst a world of darkness: sharp and vivid and beyond description. They shiver, they burn with emotion, white-hot and terrifyingly beautiful. They are the flash of light that illuminates the silver chaos for a moment, and then they are gone, turning away to strike at something else, and it makes you question if they were even there in the first place. They leave you charred, weak in all the places that used to be strong.  
His voice, - Gods, his voice, - is the deep, woeful sound of thunder. Rolling and snarling and spitting and purring. It quakes with power or curls with calm. It can shake you to your roots, forces your heart to beat along with its crescendos and diminuendos. It makes your heart flutter with an odd mixture of nervousness and calm. It is wonderfully dangerous, because it makes you want to cry and laugh and scream all at the same time.   
His touch is the rain. It’s sharp and chaotic. Soft and teasing. There are many variations, and I love every single one. Sometimes he brushes my cheek like he’s afraid I’ll break. Sometimes he grasps at me like he’s terrified that I’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. Sometimes he’ll kiss my knuckles like it’s an afterthought, and it will leave me shivering for the rest of the day. Or sometimes he’ll press his mouth to my neck and I’ll melt under the pounding flurry of raindrops that is his touch. It’s wonderful and painful and everything inbetween.   
I’ve been certain of the thunder in his voice and the lightning in his eyes for so long. Longer than my own lifetime, it sometimes seems. But only the addition of his touch - of his rain, - was able to bring it all together, like one beautiful puzzle. It all comes crashing down and lands into place when he kisses me, when he breathes thunder into my mouth and gives me electricity through his eyes and makes me weak and drippy with his touch.   
That’s how I feel about him. That’s what I think when I’m with him. It’s stupid, and it reeks of first love and poorly managed feelings of adoration, but it’s true. There’s no helping it. It doesn’t matter, though, because what you have to understand is that if it wasn’t him, it would’ve been someone else. Another man, or a woman, or anyone or anything inbetween.   
He isn’t a mistake, and neither am I. When I say I love him, I don’t expect you to be immediately okay with it. But I do expect you to trust me. Because, if I get hurt, it’s going to be on my terms, not yours.” 

 

When Sousuke looked back up, releasing a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, Makoto was pacing the sliver of space between the beds. His arms were crossed and his bottom lip was pulled in to be gnawed on fretfully. He slowed when he realized Sousuke had stopped reading. 

“Um. So…” A burst of nervous laughter fell from his lips. He rubbed the nape of his neck and glanced down at his feet. “Sorry. It’s really stupid. I was really angry when I wrote it, and really tired, and I just wanted to come back and see you, so…” 

Sousuke didn't reply at first. He stared down at that familiar, short handwriting for what felt like an eternity, before carefully folding the paper again and standing. 

“You really think all that about me?” he asked, his voice little more than a quiet croak. 

“I, um… whoa,” Makoto mumbled as Sousuke stepped closer, leaving next to no space between them. He swallowed, his apple-green gaze falling to Sousuke’s naked chest. “Uh. Yup.” 

“You really…” Sousuke trailed off. He lifted a hand to graze Makoto’s jaw, and for some stupid reason, he felt a lump settle in his throat. He took a shuddering breath. “Geez. Nobody’s ever…” 

“Compared you to a storm?” Makoto finished for him, trying for a teasing smile. 

“Said they love me,” Sousuke clarified. “N-not like that, at least.” 

“Oh.” Makoto’s smile fell. He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I see.” 

“I feel the same way, you know. Well, I wouldn’t compare you to a storm, but the meaning behind it is mutual.” He winced. “You’re more of a… shit, I don’t know. Like a field of sunflowers, or something. Or, like, a forest in autumn. Because you’re vibrant. And pretty. And you make me feel like something bad is coming because it’s too good to be true, you know?” He groaned, heat shooting up to his face. “What the fuck am I talking about.” 

Makoto laughed. He took Sousuke’s face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over his red cheekbones. “I have no idea. But it’s really, really cute.” 

“Shut up.” 

He tilted his head and gave one of those soft, inviting smiles. “Make me?” 

Giving a dramatic roll of his eyes, Sousuke cupped the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Makoto hummed as soon as they touched, his eyelashes falling shut against his cheeks. The hands resting against Sousuke’s face fell to his neck, fingers brushing down the curve of his adam’s apple and resting against his collarbone. Sousuke slid his own hands down his sides and pulled him close by the hips. 

When the kiss broke, Sousuke wrapped his arms securely around Makoto’s waist, preventing him from pulling away. He rested his nose against his shoulder and sighed. Makoto nuzzled his hair, making a deep noise in the back of his throat that could only be described as a purr. 

They stood like that for a long time, and Sousuke swore the sun and moon could’ve swapped places a dozen times, and he wouldn’t have cared.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello from the other sideeeeeeeeeee~
> 
> OKAY. So my summer has been a bit of a mess, so this is very long and very late. Please be patient with me I'm doing my best. ;3; Hopefully the next chapter won't take me so long!
> 
> ALSO HOLY SHIT THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE NICE COMMENTS AND KUDOS AND SUCH!?! This fic passed the comment number for 400 a while ago but I'm still SO PSYCHED BECAUSE OF IT!!! You guys are the absolute bomb and I love talking to you so much. <3 AND FOR ANYBODY WHO'S JUST QUIETLY READING THANK YOU TOO FOR CLICKING ON THIS IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME. 
> 
> I'm sorry. I'm emotional.  
> (sidenote: In Japan, you are a legal adult when you're 20.)

When Sousuke woke up a couple days later on the weekend, he was on Makoto’s floor, Makoto was snoring peacefully on the mattress above him, and Kisumi and Tanaka were chatting casually at the doorway. 

It wasn’t what he’d consider the best of situations. 

“...Happen often? The two of them sleeping like this, I mean,” Kisumi was saying. 

“Usually Yamazaki is spread-eagle on the bed and Tachibana is curled up in his own little space like a cat. This is the first time that Yamazaki’s ended up on the floor, to my knowledge.” 

“You think he was pushed off?” 

“It’s possible. Tachibana doesn’t kick or push much, but he does wriggle around a lot in his sleep. He might’ve jostled the bed so much Yamazaki was catapulted off.” 

“Or Sousuke might’ve just rolled straight onto the floor. Honestly, I don’t know how Makoto deals with him. Ever since we were kids, Sousuke’s taken up as much space as humanly possible in his sleep. He once rolled on top of me and nearly killed me. And nothing wakes him, either. One time, Rin-”

“I’d appreciate it if you shut the fuck up, thanks,” Sousuke snarled, peeling his cheek off of the wood floor of the dorm. He groaned and rolled onto his side, refusing to open his eyes despite the yellow sunlight warming his face to an uncomfortable itch. “Some of us are still trying to sleep.” 

“He lives!” Kisumi’s excited voice said. Footsteps moved closer and Sousuke felt someone lean over him. “Good morning! Are you surprised to see me here, Sou?” 

“No. Just disappointed.” 

“How rude.” Kisumi nudged him with the toe of his boot. “How’d you get on the floor? Did Makoto betray you and push you off? Or was it sleep-suicide?” 

“Hell if I know. Go away. I’m tired.” 

“You’re always tired. Stop being a bad host, I came all this way to visit.” 

“I’m not the host if it’s not my dorm,” Sousuke pointed out, shifting away from him. He shut his eyes tighter as an act of defiance. 

“You sure act as if it’s your dorm,” Tanaka grumbled, and Sousuke could practically sense him rolling his eyes. “Leaving your crap all over the place… Stealing Tachibana’s clothes and eating my food…” 

“Which tastes like shit, might I add.” 

A groan came from the bed, and the mattress squeaked as Makoto squirmed. “Please don’t swap insults this early in the morning, you two. I’m only so strong.” 

“Makoto!” Kisumi said, perking up. He left Sousuke’s side immediately and jumped onto the bed. “You’re awake, too. I was waiting for what felt like an eternity.” 

“He was here for five minutes,” Tanaka corrected from the doorway. 

“Morning, Kisumi,” Makoto said fondly around a yawn. The blankets shifted as he stretched, his back arching off the mattress. He slumped back with a puff. “Not to be rude, or anything, but what are you doing here?” 

“I came to see you guys. I’m in town, so.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d pop in and say hi to my favorite backstroke-sensei. Maybe force you out dancing, again.” 

“This early in the morning.” 

“Well, not now…” 

“Wait. Something’s missing,” Makoto said, his voice thoughtful. He paused, before speaking up again. “Sousuke? Where’d you go?” 

“I’m on the floor,” Sousuke growled, forcing himself to sit up. His sore muscles ached in protest.

“Oh. What are you doing on the floor?” 

“People keep asking me as if I know.” 

Makoto brought himself up on his elbows, turning a concerned, sleep-softened look down at him. “I didn’t push you off last night, did I?” 

“You might’ve,” Sousuke replied dismissively. He managed to climb back onto the bed, squeezed beside him, and threw his legs casually over Kisumi’s lap. “I’ll forgive you if you’re quiet and give me some blanket back.” 

Makoto smiled that exasperated, sweet smile of his and complied, wiggling to the side and offering him more sheets to cover himself with. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“As well as I could’ve, considering I was on the floor.” 

“You know, you’re incredibly whiny,” Kisumi commented. He gave Sousuke’s feet in his lap a bitter look. “And you smell like old sneaker.” 

“My feet do. The rest of me doesn’t.”

“I’d beg to differ,” Tanaka added cheerily from the doorway. 

“Fuck off. Like I’d let you get close enough to actually-”

“Shhh,” Makoto interrupted softly, pressing a finger to Sousuke’s lips and ignoring the glare he got in return. “No more, please. Too early for all this ridiculous crap being swapped over my head again.”

Kisumi laughed. “Ooh, how uncharacteristically blunt of you, Makoto.”

“I’m unpredictable in the mornings,” Makoto replied simply, grunting as he sat up. 

Sousuke could’ve sworn he heard Tanaka grumble, ‘Amen to that,’ before slipping out into the hall and closing the door behind him. If Makoto heard it, he didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement.

“So, Kisumi.” he said with a yawn, reaching for his shirt by the foot of the bed. He pulled it on sluggishly, his head momentarily caught in the collar. “Why are you in town? I mean, we’re happy to see you, of course, but don’t you have school?”

“Our fall break comes earlier than yours, and my grandma that lives here always invites me to visit when I’m off,” Kisumi replied. “I’ve been in town since the start of the week, but I decided not to visit you and Sousuke until now because I heard you and your family...well…” 

Sousuke glanced at Makoto out of the corner of his eye, expecting his face to fall or anger to flash in his ivy-green eyes. But he only nodded and smiled softly, as if Kisumi’s reasoning was as simple as claiming ‘bad weather.’ “Well, it’s great to see you. And Sousuke’s glad to see you too, even if he tries to hide it.” 

“I’m not trying to hide it. Yeah, I’m happy to see him. I just don’t appreciate him randomly showing up this early in the morning, when I’m trying to peacefully sleep on the floor.” 

“You know you love me,” Kisumi hummed, supplying an all too familiar shit-eating grin. 

Sousuke’s expression soured. “You know what. I take it back.” 

“Too late, you big grump.”

“Who’re-”

“Speaking of grumps,” Makoto said, seemingly eager to silence Sousuke and his ‘morning temper.’ “Have you seen Haru yet, Kisumi? He hasn’t said anything, but then again I haven’t been able to talk to him much this week.” 

Kisumi brightened. “Yeah, we went to grab drinks the other day and caught up. Well, sort of. I was doing most of the talking. But he seemed mildly interested, which is practically Haruka’s version of enthusiasm, so it was a pretty successful reunion. I think we’re going out again tomorrow, actually. I invited him to and he didn’t protest, and that’s basically a yes, so...” 

“That’s great,” Makoto said. He relaxed a little. “To be honest with you, I’ve been worried about him getting out. He doesn’t have a lot of friends here, so it’s nice to hear he’s got someone else to hang out with. He keeps insisting that he doesn’t need anybody, and I know that he’s always been independent, but I can’t help but worry.” 

Kisumi nodded in understanding. “I get it. He mentioned that he really misses the guys in Iwatobi.” 

Makoto’s eyebrows lifted. “He told you that?” 

“In his own way,” Kisumi said, smiling fondly. “You have to fill in the blanks with him.”

“You really do,” Makoto agreed with a sigh. 

“I think he’s warming up to me, too. He still sometimes ignores me or swats me away, but at this point I don’t think he means any harm. I actually get the vibe that he’s just messing with me, now. I’ve made him smile a couple times. And he giggled once, too. Holy shit, Mako, you should’ve seen it. It was like the gods had bestowed their heavenly glow upon me. I’ve never felt so accomplished in my life.” 

“You talk as if Nanase is a cat with trust issues,” Sousuke said, smirking. 

“He practically is,” Kisumi said, just as Makoto said, “Pretty much.” They exchanged an amused glance, and Sousuke couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at the how obviously comfortable they were with each other. 

Kisumi was the guy who’d asked Makoto out, after all. And Makoto was the guy who’d said yes. 

Sure, he and Sousuke had ended up kissing mere seconds before Kisumi had come to pick him up, but still. There was sense in feeling a bit of envy. 

“You think we can convince him to go out with all of us?” Kisumi asked. He grinned wide. “That’d be so great, if we could all hang out together. Just add Haruka and Rin, and our little ‘third-year’ group is complete.”

“I could probably convince him to come,” Makoto said. “That really would be nice.” He gave Sousuke a nudge. “I also wouldn’t mind if my best friend and boyfriend got to hang out a little more.” 

Sousuke nudged him back. “Hey, now. Nanase and I are on good terms. We talk sometimes.” 

“If you can call the occasional grunt in each other’s direction ‘talking,’” Makoto replied, giving him a smile that was borderline defeated. “Ah, well. I’ve come to terms with it, for the most part. At least you’re not shoving each other against walls, anymore.” 

Kisumi smirked. “That’d be troublesome if they were. You’d probably prefer Sousuke shoving you up against a wall, right, Makoto?” 

“K-Kisumi,” Makoto groaned, his face flushing. 

That ridiculous grin widened. “Aw. You’re cute when you blush, Makoto. Sousuke, isn’t he cute?” 

“Yup,” Sousuke replied without hesitation. He fought the urge to narrow his eyes at him, wondering if this was some new form of mockery.

“Or maybe Makoto would prefer it the other way around?” Kisumi asked innocently, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “If I remember correctly from our basketball games, you can be pretty aggressive.”

“Stop,” Makoto pleaded, dropping his blushing face into his hands. 

“Stop what? Just making an observation,” Kisumi replied. He nodded to Sousuke’s bare chest. “Sousuke’s third nipple is only encouragement, really.” 

“Third nipple…?” Sousuke glanced down, a flush rising to his own face at the sight of the large, dark hickey Makoto had left the night before on the tender skin of his ‘cleavage.’ They’d gotten caught up in another one of their lazy makeout sessions, and Makoto’s mouth had gradually drifted a bit lower, sluggishly peppering Sousuke’s skin with faint marks before settling on the soft spot on his chest. Sousuke could still feel his hot lips and tongue against the ragged pounding of his heart in the dark. 

“Geez. The size of that thing is pretty impressive,” Kisumi said in a melodious voice. “They don’t call you an orca for nothing, Makoto. Or is that for another reason…?” 

“OKAY, I think that’s enough, Kisumi,” Makoto said, his voice shrill and his ears flaming. “What were you saying about going out today? And inviting Haru? That sounds great, let’s talk about that.” 

“Oh, right,” Kisumi brightened. “Yeah, I figured I’d ask if you wanted to hang out today, since you just ended for fall break. Maybe go shopping, see the sights, get a bite… That sorta thing. I don’t mind being the third wheel as long as we can catch up. It really has been forever.” 

“Sure,” Makoto replied. He caught himself and looked at Sousuke. “I mean, if you want to.” 

Sousuke shrugged. “Yeah, alright. You really don’t have to ask my permission, though.” 

“I wouldn’t want to ditch you on the weekend. I don’t know if you had plans…” 

Sousuke snorted. “Makoto, please. When have I ever had a plan.” 

“Fair point,” Makoto conceded. He straightened and looked back to Kisumi. “Alright, then! We’re at your disposal. Did you have anything in mind for us to do?” 

Something mischievous flashed across Kisumi’s gaze at the words ‘your disposal,’ but thankfully he didn’t comment on it. “I was hoping we could go to the mall. Maybe Solamachi? My grandma lends me money everytime I visit, so we’re in no short supply.” 

Sousuke immediately perked up. “Fantastic. Let’s go to Solamachi, then.” 

Makoto elbowed him and Kisumi laughed.

“How extremely charismatic of you, Sousuke. I’ll go start up the car and bring it from the parking lot, and you guys can get ready,” he said, nudging Sousuke’s feet off his lap and standing. He strode to the door, his rosy curls bouncing. “Don’t primp too much, okay boys?” 

\---000---

“I have one condition, though,” Kisumi said from the front seat of his grandmother’s stocky, lilac minivan as soon as Sousuke and Makoto slipped into the back seats. He shot them a nervous smile, his long fingers flexing against the wheel. “One of you drive.” 

Sousuke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

“I hate driving. Can’t stand it. I only learned a couple months ago, and it’s so crazy in Tokyo, and this car is so bulky and awkward, and it makes me so nervous…” He shuddered. “Please, can one of you just drive? I will love you forever.” 

Sousuke was about to offer an impatient retort, but Makoto’s soft, understanding voice cut him off. “Of course. I’ll drive.” 

Kisumi instantly relaxed. “Thanks.” 

They swapped places, Makoto sliding into the driver’s seat and Kisumi wriggling into the spot beside Sousuke. Kisumi let out a relieved sigh as Makoto pulled out of the parking lot, and Sousuke couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt at jumping so quickly to give a sharp reply. 

“Buckle up,” Makoto said. He slipped his glasses on with one hand as he rolled them out into the street with the other. “Solamachi’s the one by our park, I think. Right, Sousuke?” 

“Um. Yes…?” 

Makoto chuckled. “Okay, well, I’m just going to assume it is. That’s probably a good five minutes away by car. Do you want me to park by any certain outlet?”

“By the food court,” Sousuke said without hesitation, followed shortly by Kisumi’s enthusiastic, “by the movie theatre!” 

“...How about we park in front of the shopping center, and we can make our way to the other sections as we go,” Makoto offered. He gave Sousuke a smile over his shoulder. “Since we’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to start looking around for your birthday.” 

“My birthday,” Sousuke echoed. He blinked in realization. “Shit. What’s the date?” 

“It’s the ninth.” 

“Oooh, five days.” Kisumi did a bounce in his seat. “Pretty exciting. How old are you turning? Nineteen or twenty? You're old for your graduation class, so...” 

Sousuke’s shoulders slumped. “Fuck. I’m turning twenty.”

“Nice! A legal adult, then. Smoking, drinking, porn…” Kisumi made a grand sweep of his hands. “All in just a matter of days, my friend.” 

“That is so crazy. I’m not going to be a teenager anymore.” 

Makoto nodded solemnly. “From the fourteenth to November, you’ll be dating a minor. I’m going to have to start calling you Yamazaki-san.” 

“Don’t say that,” Sousuke groaned, rubbing his temples. “Fuck, I’m old now. I never really had much of a childhood to begin with, but what I did have is officially gone. Whoosh. Out the window. Bye-bye, suffering and pain as a child. Hello, suffering and pain as an adult.”

“On the bright side, you’re one step closer to death,” Kisumi pointed out with a cheery smile. “What every university student craves, right?” 

“How incredibly optimistic of you, Kisumi,” Makoto said with a sigh, turning a corner. 

“four years ago, I was positive that I was going to be a professional swimmer riding through university on a scholarship,” Sousuke said, his voice cracking slightly with the realization. “I’m supposed to be at the Olympics, right now. Winning medals, living in penthouses, travelling the world, meeting hot girls…” He caught himself when Makoto raised an amused eyebrow at him through the rearview mirror. “But of course the gorgeous guy I’m with trumps anyone else I could’ve met.” 

Makoto laughed, and the tips of his ears went pink. “Just teasing.” 

“You realize what this is, right?” Kisumi pressed. “Sousuke, you’re going through, like, a quarter-life crisis.”

Makoto snorted. “That’s not a real thing.” 

“Sure it is. It’s the end of an era. He’s realizing all the things he hasn’t accomplished and is getting depressed and overwhelmed because of it.”

“I’m not getting depressed,” Sousuke said, scowling. 

Kisumi gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “Not even a little?”

He opened his mouth to respond with a firm ‘no,’ before pausing and letting himself consider. Yeah, realizing he hadn’t accomplished anything he’d planned on was depressing. And yes, the thought of leaving his teenage years and all those experiences of unadulterated youth was a little depressing, too…

“Kisumi, stop, you’re messing with his mind,” Makoto said, shooting his passengers a scolding look over his shoulder. “Sousuke, don’t listen to him. Turning twenty isn’t a big deal at all. It’s supposed to be exciting. You did it, right? You conquered adolescence! Drinking! Porn! Yay!” 

Kisumi gave an exaggerated sniff. “Easy for you to say. You’re still a child. So young, so naive. You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

“You do realize that Sousuke is only a little more than two months older than me, right?” 

“Exactly. A lot of wisdom can be absorbed in that time.” 

Makoto sighed heavily. “You two are hopeless.” 

“I’m dating a minor,” Sousuke groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m dating a minor, and in a matter of days I’m going to be an adult. What the fuck. That’s so weird.” 

Kisumi patted his shoulder, nodding sadly. “It’s the very unfortunate truth. You’re practically a pedophile.”

Makoto huffed. “Please tell me you’re not serious.” 

“And you’ll be able to smoke and drink, too,” Kisumi added, disregarding him completely. “How does it feel, knowing addiction is just around the corner?” 

“You’re joking, right? You’re messing with me.” 

“Makoto, will you still love Sousuke when he’s addicted to nicotine and alcohol? Will you still love him when he’s old and withered and desperate for the touch of a younger man, such as yourself? Will you still be willing to offer him your body when he is on the brink of death?” 

“Kisumi, so help me…” 

“Are you willing to sacrifice your pride in order to give this ancient soul a shred of physical pleasure?” 

“WOW, would you look at that, we’re already here!” Makoto practically bellowed, looking more frustrated and more flushed than ever before as he parked the car in a free space. He unbuckled and slipped out a tad too forcefully, and Kisumi followed with a triumphant smirk and a wink in Sousuke’s direction. 

\---000---

They found themselves wandering the mall’s stores for a good hour or two, which was much longer than Sousuke would’ve prefered, (he was in favor of getting food immediately,) but Kisumi was a stubborn shopper with the speed of a sloth. Makoto really didn’t help. He was insistent on asking if Sousuke liked something in every store they entered. 

“Makoto, you really don’t have to give me anything for my birthday,” Sousuke said impatiently as the two of them paroused a glass case of watches. “It’s fine. More than fine. I’d be totally happy if you didn’t say anything about it at all, actually.”

“And what would that make me?” Makoto replied evenly. “A bad boyfriend, that’s what. I’m broke, but not as broke as I will be next year or the year after that, so I might as well get you something nice while I can.” He paused and pointed out a simple silver pendent. “That’s nice. Do you like that?” 

“Not really a fan of jewelry.” 

Makoto nodded, before leading him forward with a gentle touch to the arm. “Alright. Good to know.” 

Sousuke sighed and grudgingly followed, his shoes shuffling against the clothing store’s carpet and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder at Kisumi, who had parked himself in front of a display of ‘I <3 Tokyo’ t-shirts. He didn’t look too intent on moving anytime soon. Sousuke tried to mentally urge him to drop the shirts so they could finally eat, but if Kisumi felt it, he gave it no acknowledgement. Dammit. 

A thought came to him, and Sousuke quickened his pace to fall back in step beside Makoto, who was now inspecting brightly colored ties with his nose wrinkled in distaste. “So… Um. Did you say something about us being together for my next birthday, too? And the one after that?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Makoto tore his gaze away from the ties to blink in surprise at him. His eyebrows furrowed worriedly. “Sorry, should I not have-” 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Sousuke said quickly. He felt his face flush and focused on scuffing his feet against the carpet. “It just… makes me happy. That you think we’ll be together till then.” 

“Well, why wouldn’t we be?” Makoto’s tone was light, but his obvious cautiousness was evident in the hesitance of his motions as he teased the ties. “I love you, after all.” 

Sousuke’s heart missed a step. When he spoke, he croaked. “Love you, too.” 

“So, if we both love each other… And, I don’t know, at some point, if…” Makoto trailed off with a sigh, his cheeks turning pink. He stopped and turned to face Sousuke, and Sousuke studied the buttons of his shirt, his fingers flexing worriedly in his pockets. 

They stood like that for a couple seconds, before Makoto pinched Sousuke’s chin and tilted his face up, forcing their gazes to clash. 

“Well. I don’t know much about relationships, but I do get the sense that talking about when it’s going to end isn’t the best idea,” he said with soft smile. His fingers fell from Sousuke’s chin to his jaw, knuckles brushing the harsh angle with something akin to reverence. “Can we just… assume we’re going to be together for a while? At least for now, since-”

“Yeah,” Sousuke interrupted firmly. He added a nod for good measure. “Of course. I don’t really want to think about not being with you, so that works out great.” 

Makoto blinked in surprise, his smile widening. He laughed the laugh that made Sousuke’s stomach flutter happily, and a couple people looked in their direction at the sound. “Me neither.”

Sousuke returned the smile, his chest aching a little. He lowered his voice. “I kinda want to kiss you right now.” 

“I kinda want you to kiss me, too.”

“Should I?” 

“No. Too many people.”

“You know, I’m really starting to realize that I don’t give a-”

“If you two are done staring dreamily into each other’s eyes, I’m hungry,” Kisumi said as he wandered towards them, a bag swinging from one hand. He pulled a face. “This store blows, anyway. You’re not going to find anything for him in here, Makoto.”

Makoto frowned. “We’ve barely looked.” 

“Trust me on this one,” Kisumi said with a sigh. He took Makoto’s hand and tugged him towards the exit, Sousuke grudgingly trailing after them. “Besides, he doesn’t want clothes.”

Makoto looked back at Sousuke with lifted eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“...Apparently not.”

“I’ve already got something in mind,” Kisumi continued. He shamelessly swung his and Makoto’s joined hands as they walked, ignoring the stares they drew or Makoto’s obvious discomfort at being noticed because of it. “Maybe Sousuke can order our food and I can take you to look at what I was thinking about.” 

“It’s pointless trying to tell you that I don’t want anything, isn’t it?” Sousuke grumbled. 

“Yup.” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Fair enough,” he conceded with a sigh. “Then just do me a favor and don’t spend too much money. Like, a thousand yen, maximum.” 

“Hey, you’re already getting birthday gifts. You don’t get price control, too,” Kisumi said in a scolding voice. “How much it costs will be left to the people actually purchasing the gifts, thank you very much.” 

“And a thousand yen is ridiculous,” Makoto added. “What am I going to buy with that? A single pair of boxer briefs?”

“I wouldn’t mind that….” 

Kisumi huffed. “Makoto, your boyfriend is a dolt.” He paused for a moment, before a sly grin came across his face. “Wait. One thousand yen, you say?” 

“Um. Yeah.” 

“Oh, I know what we could get you with that,” he hummed. He tugged Makoto down to whisper something in his ear, and Makoto jerked away as if he’d been burned, his face flushing. 

“Kisumi!”

“What? It’s a perfectly acceptable gift. And don’t you think he’d appreciate it?” 

“Wait, what did he say?” Sousuke demanded, hurrying the couple steps to fall in line with them. Kisumi didn’t grace him with a reply, and merely winked before turning his attention back on Makoto.

“Well, if you won’t buy it…” 

“Shigino Kisumi, don’t you dare,” Makoto hissed. He shook a scolding finger at him, the tips of his ears scarlet. “So help me, if you buy him a-”

He was promptly cut off by Kisumi slapping a hand over his mouth. “SHHH, you’ll ruin the surprise! Do you want to mess up his birthday?” 

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Sousuke snapped. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Kisumi said with a smile that was all too contradictory. He promptly ignored Makoto’s exasperated look. “You know, you really shouldn’t swear like that in public, Sousuke. There are children present.” 

“Screw you.” 

“Well, now you’re just bitter.” 

“I am not-” 

“Hey,” Makoto interrupted with a casually curious voice. He slowed in front of a little shop, and Kisumi was forced to stumble to a halt, their hands still entwined. Sousuke followed Makoto’s gaze to the sign above the store’s wide entrance: ‘Clip and Clean,’ in swirling, neon pink letters. A hair salon, then. One of the tiny, bustling ones often tucked away in some corner of a mall. 

“What is it?” Kisumi asked, looking between Makoto and the store and back again. “Why are we stopping in front of a hair salon?” 

Makoto didn’t reply at first. He pursed his lips and studied the salon for a moment before speaking again. “Do you guys mind going on ahead, maybe grabbing some food? I… I think I’m going to have my hair cut, as long as we’re here.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows. “Now?” 

“Why?” Kisumi frowned. “Your hair is fine.” 

“My mom says it’s too long.” 

“I like it long.”

“So do I,” Sousuke added. He leaned forward and pinched a strand of it, rolling it between his fingers. “I mean, you’ll look good no matter what, but…”

Makoto smirked. “Thanks, Sousuke. But seriously, I think she’s right. It’s getting in my face all the time, and there’s so much more to clean and keep untangled, and I don’t know if it looks okay with my face…” 

“It looks fine with your face,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to cut it just because your mom wants you to. If you’re worried about it getting in your eyes, just get a couple of headbands, or clips, or something.” 

Kisumi grinned. “Holy shit, that’d be so adorable.” 

Makoto laughed. “I’m pretty sure it would just make me look like a three year old.” 

“With your cheekbones? Fat chance. You’ve got the bone structure of a magical elf prince.” 

“Um…. Thanks?” he mumbled, looking away and flushing. “I don’t know. I’d prefer to keep it long, but it probably doesn’t look very professional.” 

Sousuke snorted. “You do realize we’re nearing the end of our first year of college, right? You’ve got your whole life to look professional.” 

“That’s true,” Makoto admitted. He sighed and nodded. “Okay. Well, there’s no harm in taking a look at some of their styles. Do you guys mind going ahead without me? I’ll catch up and meet you at the food court in a bit.” 

“Sure,” Kisumi said before Sousuke could reply. He looped his arm around Sousuke’s and led him forward, calling over his shoulder. “Call if you want our opinions or something, okay?” 

“I will.” 

“Wait.” Sousuke forced them to slow and looked back. “Do you want anything at the food court?” 

“Maybe just a spicy chicken curry from Rakuten…?”

“We can do that,” Kisumi confirmed, and Sousuke fought his annoyance at being interrupted every two seconds. He grudgingly allowed himself to be pulled along, giving Makoto a casual wave. Makoto returned it warmly before stepping into the salon and immediately being approached by an attendant with spiky purple hair and an impressive amount of piercings. 

“You think he’ll decide to get it cut?” Sousuke wondered out loud. 

Kisumi shrugged. “He probably will. If he’s worried about his long hair looking unprofessional or that he’ll be judged for it, he’ll want to do something about it. Makoto’s always been pretty self-conscious about how he comes off to people.” 

“Yeah…” Sousuke sighed bitterly. “It’s really annoying.” 

“Says the guy who refuses to smile in public to maintain his ‘tough guy’ image.” 

“Fuck off. I smile plenty in public. And if I don’t, it’s not because I’m trying to maintain an image.” 

“Alright,” Kisumi said, his voice lilted in exaggerated defeat. “If you say so.” 

Sousuke nudged him in annoyance, and he laughed, his silky voice drawing a few gazes their way. 

“I swear, it’s like you find pleasure in irritating me.” 

“I sorta do,” Kisumi replied with a sweet smile. “You’re fun to tease. Not as fun as Makoto, but fun nonetheless.” 

Sousuke snorted. “You ‘tease’ Makoto? I feel like ‘harrass’ is a better word.” 

“Now that’s just an insensitive exaggeration, Sousuke.” He pulled his bottom lip out in a pout. “Makoto knows I don’t mean any harm. He likes me a lot, you know.” 

“Makoto likes everybody.” 

“But me especially. We were really close, you know. Back in middle school. And we’ve been trying to hang out more ever since we met again that last year of high school. Playing basketball again, babysitting our siblings together…” He shrugged as he and Sousuke fell into a line at the food court. Sousuke glanced up to read their chosen restaurant’s name: ‘Rakuten.’ The one Makoto had asked for. “He’s been helping me with my writing, too. I told you that already, didn’t I? How I want to be a playwright at some point, and Makoto’s been looking over my stuff and giving feedback.” 

Sousuke nodded. “I’m not surprised.” 

“It’s been really great, getting his input. I can feel myself getting better, too,” Kisumi continued. He grabbed two trays and held one out for Sousuke to take. “He’s a much better person to go to for peer review than my professor, I’ve decided. I suspect he actually knows more about the subject than she does.” He turned back to smile at him. “You know, I asked Haruka before I asked Makoto. Which, granted, wasn’t the best idea. Haruka’s always had good grades in Japanese Literature too, but you know him. Water is his poetry, or whatever. Anything else he has no interest in, which means he isn’t too knowledgeable about virtually anything else that has to do with writing. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out Makoto helped him through most of their classes back in high school.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised, either,” Sousuke said with a snort. 

“But I’m glad I did ask Haruka first, because he was the one who suggested asking Makoto. Which meant officially getting back in touch with both of them.” Kisumi smirked. “You know, in a sense, I’m the outer force that got you and Makoto together to begin with. If I hadn’t asked him out for that date and for dancing…” 

“Then I would’ve gotten around to doing it myself,” Sousuke huffed. 

“Yeah, right,” Kisumi sang, his voice teasing. “How long had you two been ‘no-homo buddies’ until I showed up? Three months? Maybe even four? All that time you could’ve kissed him like you did when we went out dancing, but you didn’t. You only mustered the courage then because I was a threat to your possible romance with him.” He plucked a straw from a dispenser and hit the tip of his nose with it. “Therefore, I was ultimately the one to push the first domino.” 

“‘Muster the courage?’” Sousuke echoed, scowling. “Bullshit. There was no ‘mustering’ involved. I didn’t kiss him earlier because I wanted to get to know him better. As friends. You just happened to be around when we kissed.” He snatched the straw from him and smacked his shoulder with it. “No involvement. You were a bystander.” 

“I was your muse,” Kisumi corrected. He grabbed another straw and patted it against Sousuke’s, like the tap of two swords before a dual. “Cut the crap. When have you ever been one to wait? I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you didn’t ask him out earlier because you were scared.” 

“I was not scared.” 

“You totally were.” 

“I was not.” 

“Were, too.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“Yes, Sousuke.” 

“Okay, fine,” Sousuke conceded, a tad too forcefully. “Maybe just a little. But who wouldn’t be?” 

“I wasn’t,” Kisumi said with a widening grin. “It took you months, Sou. Only took me a couple days. Not that I’m bragging, or anything…” 

“Yeah, well.” Sousuke glowered down at this tray. “It was… different.” 

“Oh, yeah? How so?” 

“I really liked him. Like, really, really liked him. And that was scary as fuck.” He sighed hard. “It was scary as fuck because I’ve never really liked anybody before. I mean, I dated, but nobody ever really…” 

“Made you get the forewarned ‘belly-butterflies?’” Kisumi offered. His smile hadn’t shrunk, but the corners had softened in understanding. 

“Well, yeah,” Sousuke said with a half-hearted shrug. “I’ve never really been scared of being rejected before, because I never cared enough. If I was told ‘no,’ it wasn’t a big deal, because I knew I’d get over it. But Makoto is…” His throat closed up, as if refusing to offer him the right words. He cleared it and tried again in a determined voice. “It was scarier with Makoto, because I guess I realized that if he said no, then there was no way in hell I was going to get over it at the drop of a hat."

Kisumi nodded again, humming. “You didn’t want to think about being rejected, so you just didn’t approach the subject at all. You wanted to keep the hope.” 

“I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, automatically taking a couple steps forward when the line moved. “It’s harder, being into somebody you care about.” 

“Amen.” Kisumi tapped their straws together again in what was probably confirmation of his agreement. “So much stress. You end up just asking yourself the same questions over and over again, right? Will they say yes? Will they say no?” 

“Will they be disgusted?” Sousuke contributed, returning the straw-tap. “Will they find it cute, but in a ‘you’re-my-friend’s-little-brother’ sort of way?” 

“Or maybe they’ll make it weird and tell all their friends what happened.” 

“Or post it online.” 

“With a sarcastic comment.” 

“And laughing emojis.” 

Kisumi sighed heavily as they stepped up to the counter. “It’s a hard road we travel, my friend. Life wasn’t made to be easy for friendship ruiners.” 

“Now that,” Sousuke said, setting the tray down. “Is something we can agree on.” 

Kisumi ordered, smiling at the restaurant employee who looked, understandably, pretty confused about their conversation topic. She fidgeted in her spot behind the counter, her eyes darting between the two of them and lingering for a moment longer on Sousuke. Sousuke gave her a polite, crooked smile, and it would’ve taken someone as oblivious as Makoto not to catch the violent color that rose to her cheeks as she hurriedly looked away. 

“I’ll be right back with your order,” she said with a squeak in her voice. She turned to slip into the hot, crowded cooking area, and Kisumi turned a smirk up to him. 

“She likes you.” 

“I know.” 

“She’s pretty cute.” 

“I’m pretty taken.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t admit she’s cute,” Kisumi said with a grand roll of his eyes. He nudged him. “C’mon, be flattered that somebody cute thinks you’re cute.” 

“I never said I wasn’t flattered,” Sousuke replied simply. He hesitated, before giving a little nod. “And yeah. She’s pretty cute. Which is, admittedly, good for my self-esteem.”

Kisumi grinned. “There you go.” 

The employee returned with their orders, and they stepped out of line to find a place to sit. Sousuke nodded to an open table by the one of the mall’s gaping windows. Kisumi plopped down in the seat opposite him, leaving one open for Makoto. 

“I’ll text him to tell him we’ve got food,” he said, slipping his phone out. 

“Are we waiting for him, or can I stuff my face?” Sousuke asked, despite already reaching to open one of their paper bags.

“Knock yourself out.” 

“With pleasure.” 

Kisumi slipped his phone back into his pocket when he was satisfied and watched Sousuke pull out his giant tub of noodles with a fond smirk. He handed him chopsticks, which Sousuke took gratefully. 

“This is going to be so good,” he groaned, popping the top open. The warm steam of the broth hit his face, and he had to curl his lips in to keep back a moan that was probably a tad too sensual for their surroundings. Kisumi laughed. By the time he was reaching for the paper bag himself, Sousuke had already torn the plastic wrapper off his chopsticks and was shoving a plentiful helping of noodles into his mouth. 

“And I thought Haruka was an impressive eater,” Kisumi said. 

Sousuke shook his head and wiped broth from his chin. “This is just me when I’m hungry. When I’m not, Makoto says I eat like a bird.” 

Kisumi laughed again. “Well, compared to Makoto, everybody eats like a bird.” 

“Fair point.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while. Or what would’ve been a comfortable silence, if it weren’t for their enthusiastic slurping and chewing. Kisumi made a loud hum of approval the second his noodles touched his lips, and a couple girls looked their way in alarm before dissolving into giggles. Both of them were too preoccupied with their food to notice for very long. Halfway through Sousuke’s noodles he was vaguely aware of Kisumi taking his phone back out and smirking at it as he texted. 

“Makoto?” he asked once he’d swallowed. 

“Yeah. Warning him about my idea for your birthday present.” 

Sousuke scowled. “You guys really-”

“It’s impressive that you’re still arguing, even though we both know Makoto and I are going to get you presents regardless,” Kisumi commented thoughtfully. He tapped his chopsticks against the rim of Sousuke’s bowl. “Speaking of which. I’ve decided on what I’m getting you.” 

“Hm.” 

“It has come to my attention that you and Makoto still haven’t had sex.” 

It was lucky for the both of them that Sousuke didn’t spew noodles all over their table counter. 

Once he’d gotten a hold of himself and his throat was done burning from nearly choking to death, he mustered his most powerful glower. “Kisumi. What the actual fuck are you-” 

“Don’t bother denying it,” Kisumi said, and he sounded more bored than anything. That little shit. 

“How do you even-” 

“Haruka told me. He knows from Makoto.” 

Of course he did. Sousuke curled his hands into fists, the wood of the chopsticks squeaking in protest. “That’s it. I’m going to strangle him.” 

“Please don’t,” Kisumi said. That stupid grin was returning. “I find Haruka pretty cute. It would be a shame if he were strangled.” 

“Do I look like I give a-” 

“But that’s not the point, is it?” Kisumi cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The point is that I am a good friend, and a good friend cannot stand idly by while you two waste away. And a good friend certainly can’t let you have your ‘first time’ in a smelly dorm with a bunch of other guys picking their noses just a poorly constructed wall away.” He spread his arms and smiled sweetly, as if he were some sort of god bestowing a blessing on him. “So, for your birthday, I’ve decided to let you guys housesit for my nana while we go to on a yoga expedition.” 

Sousuke couldn’t bring himself to do anything but stare at him for a long time. 

“Kisumi,” he said after a while. “Nothing you just said made any sense.” 

“Sure it does,” Kisumi protested, dropping his arms and pouting. “My nana is a total yoga nut. Has been since she retired. She’s been wanting to go to these hot springs out in the country for years do this sort of meditation yoga thing, but nobody’s wanted to go with her. Until now. I finally agreed, because hey, I could use some meditation, which means we’ll be on a train this Monday and will need somebody to housesit and feed her cats.” He leaned forward and smirked. “Amongst other things, if you’d like.” 

“So.... Basically what you’re saying,” Sousuke began, rubbing his temples. “Is that for my birthday, you’re giving Makoto and I your nana’s apartment. Just us. Nobody else.” 

Kisumi shrugged. “Well, there will be her cats, but otherwise, yeah. You’ll be totally alone.” 

“And you’re telling us we can have sex there.” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Even though it’s your nana’s apartment.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You won’t be having sex on her frilly bed, or anything. She has a guest room. And I expect you to clean up after yourselves, thank you very much.” 

Sousuke rubbed the nape of his neck and winced. “But… why?” 

“Why do I expect you to clean up after yourselves? It’s not rocket-science, Sousuke. When two people-” 

“No, no, no,” Sousuke cut him off and resisting the urge to groan. “I mean, why are you doing this?” 

Kisumi blinked. “I told you. I’m a good friend.” 

“But you asked Makoto out,” Sousuke insisted. “You had feelings for him. I mean, I don’t know if you still do…” 

Kisumi scoffed. “Sousuke, I don’t have feelings for Makoto. I did, but he told me he just wanted to be friends, and I was perfectly okay with that, because before anything else, we are friends. Besides.” He paused and took Sousuke’s hand, patting it. “It’s been, like, six months since you two started dating. I think that’s more than enough time.” 

“Screw you.” 

“You know, I never expected you to be very prude, Sousuke. I always made you out to be a bit of a male nympho. No offense, or anything, but you’ve got this sort of brooding presence about you that bleeds sexual intentions-” 

“I am going to drag you out of this mall by your stupid pink hair and throw you into the ocean if you don’t stop talking.” 

“Kidding, kidding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you squint you can see my undeniable need to lowkey ship Kisumi with everybody.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smutty smut smut (but I cheat a lil bit so I'm sorry about that)
> 
> YES. THIS CHAPTER IS A DECENT LENGTH. I ACTUALLY DIDN'T GO OVER MY LIMIT THIS TIME. *fist pump* Still hella long, but you know what I have too much fun writing this to make short chapters so sue me.

As far as Sousuke was aware, Makoto was none the wiser about Kisumi's plan to get them both laid.

He returned from the 'Clip and Clean' with two little plastic bags and no signs of a new haircut, to both Sousuke and Kisumi's relief. When they asked about it, he flushed and admitted that he'd been seriously debating it, but wasn't all that comfortable about doing it alone.

"I just really don't like scissors by my face," he burst, when Sousuke and Kisumi exchanged a knowing look. "No, really. One time when I was little, my aunt offered to cut my hair for me, but right as she was trimming my bangs Ran dropped a block on her foot and she ended up slicing right through my forehead." He plopped down next to Sousuke and swept his hair back, tapping a finger to his head. "See? I still have a bit of a scar."

"Aw, that's kinda cute," Kisumi said. He leaned over the table to get a look at the thin white line just below Makoto's scalp. "You're like Harry Potter!"

Sousuke smiled and brushed his thumb over it. "It does look like a tiny bolt of lightning."

"Yeah, well, when my aunt gave it to me, it looked more like a bleeding gash that stained my face red. It was horrifying. And it really didn't help that I could see my blood on her scissors." He shuddered. "Her big, shiny, silver scissors."

"You know, as far as irrational fears go, yours is pretty adorable," Kisumi said. He pinched Makoto's cheek. "Lil' baby Mako, afraid of big bad scissors that go snip snip."

"It's not irrational!" Makoto protested.

"You're really not one to talk, Kisumi," Sousuke said. "Mr. 'I'm-afraid-of-driving-for-literally-five-minutes.'"

Kisumi bristled. "It's dangerous here in Tokyo and I don't trust myself with passengers, thank you very much. Should I bring up your irrational fear, hm? If I do recall , you're deathly afraid of a certain little fellow with eight hairy legs and a series of gooey-looking eyes..."

"Finish that description and I'll strangle you," Sousuke growled through clenched teeth, feeling an unpleasant shiver go up his spine.

Makoto lifted his eyebrows. "You're afraid of spiders?"

"I'm not afraid of them. I'm just cautious around them."

"Bullshit," Kisumi said, smirking. "When we were little you would scream whenever you saw one and climb onto a table. You cried once because one of our classmates brought a tarantula to show-and-tell."

Sousuke jabbed a finger of warning in his face. “That is an exaggeration and you know it.”

“It is not. Your mom had to come pick you up early because you kept asking to go to the nurse so she could check you for tarantula bites. Rin poked your arm that day and you screeched like a little banchee. I remember how everyone wanted to gag you so they could hear the story our teacher was trying to read.” He sighed blissfully. “Ahhh, memories.”

Makoto's disbelieving smile widened. “Seriously?”

“Yup. I think I recall another time-”

"I was eight! And they're fucking scary, alright?" Sousuke snapped. "Do you know how many people die a year from spider bites? A shit-ton. I'd rather not be one of them, thanks."

Makoto laughed. "Aw, Sousuke. That's kinda cute."

“No, it's not. It's terrifying. Look, I can bring up the statistics right now if-”

“I meant you're cute,” Makoto said. He rested his chin in his palm and grinned, his stupid little dimples showing. When he spoke, his voice was a teasing coo. “Don't worry, baby. I promise I'll protect you from all the scary, icky spiders.”

“I hate you,” Sousuke growled. He decided it was best not to dwell on the excited little shudder that went up his back when Makoto called him 'baby.' Honestly. Who gave him the right to say that in such a sweet, raspy voice. “Look, can we just... not. I'd really rather talk about something else. Anything else.”

“Sure,” Kisumi said, but his teasing smirk didn't fade in the slightest. He turned to Makoto. “So, Makoto. How would you and Sousuke feel about spending your fall break housesitting for my nana and her three darling cats?”

Makoto perked up immediately. “Cats?”

\---000---

Monday afternoon, Kisumi once again let himself into their dorm building to pick them up. This time, however, he was accompanied by Nanase.

“Hello, Yamazaki,” he said in that soft, deadpan voice of his, remaining expressionless despite the rather unfortunate position he and Kisumi had caught them in. Makoto had bent over to rummage through his drawers before they'd come in, and naturally, Sousuke had planted himself right behind him while they chatted, his hands on Makoto's hips and his thumbs massaging the muscle of Makoto's lower back. When the door suddenly clicked open they both froze. Kisumi scoffed and Nanase's blank blue eyes immediately fell to where Sousuke's crotch was in dangerous proximinity to Makoto's ass.

“Hey,” Sousuke mumbled. Makoto straightened so quickly that he hit the back of his head on the top drawer of his dresser. He hissed in pain and righted himself, his cheeks flushed an explosive shade of pink.

“Hey, guys,” he said. He smiled weakly. “I didn't know Haru was coming, too.”

“Oh, he's not. I'm dropping him off on our way over to my nana's apartment complex,” Kisumi replied, casually leaning against the doorframe. As if catching two of his friends in a suggestive position was something he was totally familiar with. “He spent the night last night.”

Makoto's eyebrows shot up behind his bangs. “Really?”

Nanase nodded. “Kisumi's grandma has a lot of interesting ocean documentaries. And cats.”

“Oh.” Makoto's shoulders relaxed. He smiled the smile that seemed to be especially for Nanase. The one that managed to have fondness, exasperation, and understanding all in the tilt of his lips. “Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself. Did you sleep alright?”

“Well enough,” Nanase replied with a shrug. “We didn't finish all of the documentaries. I might come over tomorrow night to watch the rest.”

“Or you could just borrow them,” Sousuke said. He wasn't too fond of the idea of having Nanase in the next room while he was attempting to seduce Makoto into bed.

Nanase lifted an eyebrow at him. “Sounds as if you don't want me around much, Yamazaki.”

“I just don't want you driving back and forth between Kisumi's apartment and yours,” Sousuke replied with a tight smile. “Wouldn't want you wasting money on gas when you can watch it in the comfort of your home.”

“But my apartment doesn't have cats. Kisumi's does.” Nanase nodded shortly, as if that decided it. “I like cats. Especially when I'm watching ocean documentaries.”

“Well, maybe you should get a cat, then.”

“I should.”

“Then do it.”

“I plan on it. But in the meantime-”

“Haru,” Makoto interrupted with a sigh. “Why don't you come over tomorrow at noon? Sousuke and I will probably want to watch something else that night.”

“Okay. What will you be watching?”

“Something with just the two of us,” Sousuke retorted, folding his arms over his chest. He gave Nanase a pointed look, one that hopefully screamed, 'FUCK OFF, YOU LITTLE GUARD DOG.' At this point, though, he honestly wasn't sure if Nanase was doing this because he was genuinely concerned or because he just liked messing with them. “Maybe something romantic. Something that Makoto and I would enjoy. As a couple. By ourselves.”

“How do you know I won't enjoy it, too? I could bring snacks.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. Sousuke wasn't sure if he was thoroughly pissed off or impressed with the lengths Nanase was willing to go in order to cockblock him.

“Haru,” Makoto said. “It's Sousuke's birthday that night. I think we're going to want to spend some time alone. I'll watch some of the documentary with you earlier, and if we don't finish, I'm sure Kisumi's grandma would be happy to lend you them.” He glanced to Kisumi. “Right?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, of course,” Kisumi said with a jolt, as if he'd been too caught up with the 'Sousuke-vs-Haruka' show to realize he was being addressed. He smiled and propped an arm on Nanase's shoulder. “My nana probably wouldn't even notice if you stole her entire TV set, much less borrowed her documentaries.”

Nanase's lips pursed sourly in the slightest, but he gave a little nod. “Fine.”

“Great,” Kisumi said, clapping his hands together. “Makoto, Sousuke, you guys packed for the week?”

Makoto laughed nervously and glanced down at one of his half-packed bags. “Um, almost.”

“Just wear some of mine if you run out,” Sousuke said, leaning down to zip it up and sling it over his shoulder. He grabbed his own by the door. “It's not like we're going to be without a washing machine, anyways. In fact, we're going to have one all to ourselves for once.”

The thought of pinning a scarcely-clothed Makoto against a purring washing machine suddenly came to him, and it took some serious concentration to will it away. Honestly, ever since Kisumi had brought up sex a couple days ago, his mind had descended a little further into the gutter than usual. He cleared his throat and righted his shoulders. 

“Should be interesting.”

“Uh, yeah. C'mon, then,” Kisumi said, motioning to the door.

He stood back to let Makoto and Nanase exit first, before catching Sousuke by the arm and pulling him down slightly to whisper in his ear.

“If you have sex on my nana's washing machine I am going to introduce your ass to the bottoms of my new soccer kleets.”

\---000---

Nanase drove them a little further downtown to his apartment building, before slipping out of the driver's seat and letting Makoto take the wheel. He told Makoto he'd see him the next day, wished Sousuke a (less than enthusiastic) happy birthday, and pretended to catch a kiss that Kisumi blew towards him. Kisumi's face lit up, but his smile fell into a pout when Nanase then proceeded to “throw” the kiss dismissively over his shoulder.

“So rude, Haruka!” he whined. “My kisses are to be cherished, not wasted!”

“Then have the courage to give me a real one,” Nanase replied simply, before turning on his heel and taking a casual stroll up to the entrance of his apartment building.

Makoto burst out laughing, and Kisumi's face went so red that his hair looked white in comparison.

“Kisumi, are you alright?” Sousuke asked, more pleased than he would've liked to admit. “You look a little flushed.”

“Shut up.”

“Don't be fooled,” Makoto said, pulling them back out into the cluttered street. “Haru's probably pretty flustered himself. I'm not sure if you noticed, but he's still pretty new to the whole concept of flirting.”

“Sure doesn't seem like it,” Kisumi grumbled. He rubbed his cheeks, as if willing the color to fade away. “Stupid Haruka and his stupidly smooth voice that sounds like rain sliding down a slope of stone...”

Makoto perked up. “Nice use of alliteration and simile, Kisumi.”

“You know, we could probably turn back in time for you to catch him and give him a 'real kiss,'” Sousuke said, leaning forward from the backseat. “I wouldn't mind seeing Nanase's surprised face, for once.”

“No, it's fine. I'll get him next time,” Kisumi replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. The color in his cheeks seemed resistent to leaving. “Don't wanna leave for a week right after I blow his mind with our first earth-shattering kiss.”

“You sure you're not just scared?”

He stiffened. “Nope. Not at all. I am completely cool with the situation.”

“Alright, then,” Sousuke said, but shared a knowing look with Makoto through the rear-veiw mirror all the same.

\---000---

Kisumi's grandma lived in a tall, slender building just a couple miles away from Nanase's, its slender grey body climbing towards the puffy silver clouds that stalked across the skies of the city. It was nothing compared to most of Tokyo's more esteemed buildings, but it was much taller and elegant-looking than Sousuke would've pictured for a little old lady. Makoto manuevered the car into the nearly filled lot at the building's side, parking sloppily in the first sliver of space they could find.

Kisumi led them inside, their sneakers squeaking against the glossy marble of the lobby's floor. Makoto and Sousuke's gazes were immediately tugged upward, where an impressive chandelier hung from a concave, creamy ceiling. They stumbled past elegantly dressed people engulfed in quiet chatter to the front desk – a curving, polished mass of grey stone with a woman sorting primly through files behind it. She glanced up when they approached and smiled.

“Shigino-kun,” she said, nodding her head.

“Hey, Mari-chan,” Kisumi replied casually. He jabbed a thumb back at Sousuke and Makoto. “These two are housesitting for my nana while she and I are on a yoga trip. Just thought I'd let you know so you won't, like, call the cops on them when they wander in looking like a couple of hobos.”

“Hey,” Sousuke grumbled.

Mari nodded again. “Of course, Shigino-kun. I hope you have a nice trip.”

“Thanks, Mari-chan.” Kisumi gave her a little salute before tugging them over to an elevator. He hit the 'up' button and led them inside when the elevator doors chimed and slid open.

“Is your grandma loaded?” Sousuke asked as soon as the doors were shut. “This place looks like something out of The Great Gatsby.”

Kisumi shrugged. “I guess. She started a chocolate company way back when and made a shitload of money. This is pretty much her early retirement home.”

“That's amazing,” Makoto said. He laughed as he studied the intricate gold patterns on the elevator's walls. “I don't think I've ever been in such an expensive-looking place before.”

“That's because you're from Iwatobi, honey,” Kisumi said in a kind voice. The doors slid open and he stepped out, adjusting one of Sousuke's bags over his shoulder. “C'mon. Just a little ways down the hall.”

They followed him in somewhat of a daze, their eyes following the line of paintings that hung between apartment doors. Sousuke's parents, despite being successful leaders of a flourishing business, had never been into great extravagances. Their homes had always been modest, made up of mostly necessities, since the Yamazakis never seemed to use it for anything other than sleep and an occasional meal. So Sousuke couldn't help but be thoroughly impressed with the almost disgusting amount of elegance that surrounded them.

Kisumi stopped in front of a door about halfway down the hallway. He slipped a ring of keys out of his pocket and unlocked it, before letting the it sweep open and stepping back to let Sousuke and Makoto in first.

“Wow,” they breathed in unison.

The apartment was smaller than expected, but what it lacked in size it made up for in appearances. It was simpler than the rest of the building, more professional-looking, with clean angles to black furniture, blank white walls, and a wide window overlooking the city. It almost looked like something out of a virtual world, like something made out of carefully selected pixels. The only thing that disrupted the quiet order was a bright pink litterbox by the ebony couch and a scratching post that had obviously seen better days.

“Nana, I'm back!” Kisumi shouted as soon as the door closed behind them, and both Makoto and Sousuke winced at the sudden volume.

“I'm in the guest bedroom!” a feminine voice called back.

Kisumi dropped the bag he was holding rather unceremoniously and motioned for them to follow. He led them down the short hallway to a small, polite bedroom. An older woman in a bright pink track suit looked up from adjusting the black sheets of the bed. She was younger than Sousuke had expected, maybe in her mid-sixties, with curly, paling pink hair and deep smile lines around her eyes and mouth. Sousuke immediately recognized Kisumi's dewdrop nose and mischevious smile.

“Ah, you must be Kisu's housesitting friends,” she said, sweeping around the foot of the bed to approach them.

“Yup,” Kisumi chirped, before either Makoto or Sousuke could reply. “Nana, these are my friends Tachibana Makoto and Yamazaki Sousuke. Guys, this is my nana.”

“Please call me Shinoa, boys,” she said, holding a hand out for them to shake.

“It's very nice to meet you, ma'am,” Makoto said as he shook, flashing her a charming smile.

Her grin widened considerably, and her gaze lingered on Makoto as she took Sousuke's hand next. “It's nice to meet you too. Well, don't you two make a handsome pair.”

Makoto laughed, his cheeks flushing. “That's very kind of you to say.”

“And you're both housesitting for me this week?”

“They're doing a school project together,” Kisumi said before either of them could awkwardly reply. “It's a fall break assignment, so I asked them both so they could work on it together.”

“How thoughtful of you, Kisu,” Shinoa mused. She clapped her hands together and beamed. “Well, boys, I'm beyond grateful. Feel free to eat anything in the fridge, sleep anywhere, watch anything you want. My home is yours.” She paused and held up a well-manicured finger. “But no parties.”

“You don't have to worry about that sort of thing with these two,” Kisumi said, smirking. “They're total homebodies. If anything, you'll get complaints about it being too quiet.”

“I don't know, Sousuke can get kinda crazy,” Makoto said, faking a serious pout. He nudged Sousuke teasingly. “But I'll make sure to keep him in line.”

Shinoa chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, as long as I have your word. Why don't I give you a tour? I can introduce you to my three babies.”

“Babies?” Sousuke echoed.

“Her cats,” Kisumi and Makoto clarified.

\---000---

Kisumi and Shinoa left maybe thirty minutes later, after Sousuke and Makoto were treated to a very thorough introduction to all three of Shinoa's cats. To nobody's surprise, all of them immediately approached Makoto and began rubbing against his leg, purring thickly and twining their tails around his legs. And, (again, to nobody's surprise,) all of them avoided Sousuke as if he were the human incarnate of bubbling acid.

Before leaving, Shinoa gave Makoto a very wet, very generous kiss on the cheek, (his way with cats must've improved her opinion of him greatly,) and shook Sousuke's hand enthusiastically. She thanked them a couple hundred times before allowing herself to be ushered out by Kisumi with her pink suitcase in tow. Kisumi wished Sousuke a happy birthday, gave a wink and a suggestive smile, and told them not to make too much of a mess while he was gone. He clicked the door shut and both Makoto and Sousuke’s shoulders slumped with relief.

“I have an awkward question,” Makoto said after a second. He pouted thoughtfully and rubbed his cheek, which had been stained pink by Shinoa's lipstick.

“What?”

"...Like, a really awkward question."

"Okay...?"

“Is it just me, or does Kisumi want us to have sex in his nana's apartment?”

Sousuke couldn't help a laugh. “It's not just you.”

“You sure?”

“Trust me, Makoto. I'm positive.”

“Hm.” Makoto turned away to pick up their bags, his voice a croak. “Interesting.”

Smiling to himself, Sousuke picked up the remaining bags and followed him into the guest bedroom, where they dumped them on the bed. Makoto wandered over to the window, rubbing his hands against his jeans. 

“Looks like rain,” he said. 

“Mm-hm.” 

Sousuke could hear the smile in his voice. “My favorite.” 

“I know.” He grinned and moved around the foot of the bed to embrace Makoto from behind, resting his chin on Makoto’s shoulder. Their fingers twined against Makoto’s thighs. 

For a comfortable moment they watched the silver clouds roll over the crest of the city. Sousuke led them into a sway, turning his face to nuzzle Makoto’s neck and press his lips to his skin. Makoto melted against him. He rested his cheek against Sousuke's hair and closed his eyes, only offering a hum of approval as his throat was peppered with chaste kisses. 

“I have another awkward question,” he said. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you want to have sex in Kisumi’s nana’s apartment?” 

Their swaying stilled. Sousuke straightened and waited for Makoto to turn around in his arms to face him. Makoto swallowed and met his gaze, his cheeks flushing. 

“I honestly wouldn’t mind it,” Sousuke said. He tried for a casual smile. “You?” 

Makoto bit his lip and returned the grin. “I really wouldn’t mind it either.” 

“So….” 

“I guess we should, then.” 

“Guess so.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Nah. We need supplies.” 

“Supplies?” Makoto echoed, looking momentarily horrified. 

“Like, lube and condoms, and stuff,” Sousuke said, laughing awkwardly. “Shit, Makoto, it’s not like I have intentions for toys, or anything.” 

“Oh.” Makoto relaxed and smiled, his face turning a deeper shade of red. “Well, that’s um… that’s good. Okay. So, uh. I guess you’re getting birthday sex tomorrow.” 

Sousuke laughed. “I guess so. I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Me, too.” Makoto’s smile widened. His hands snaked up to cup Sousuke’s biceps through his jacket, and their foreheads bumped. Sousuke moved closer out of instinct, close enough for the buckles of their belts to clank against each other. Makoto tilted his chin up to bite softly at his lip, his voice a throaty whisper. “Like, really. I’m really looking forward to it.” 

“Don’t,” Sousuke groaned, and he forced himself to pull away. His body instantly ached with the absence of Makoto’s warmth. “You’re turning me on.” 

Makoto laughed. “Sorry.” 

“Sure you are,” Sousuke said with a sigh. He took Makoto’s hand and tugged him close enough to kiss his cheek. “Okay. I’m scoping out the kitchen for dinner.” 

“Okay. I’m cuddling cats.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

\---000---

They would definitely have no shortage of food in the next week. 

The more Sousuke poked around the kitchen, the more food he found. Canned, boxed, plastic-clad, etc. But the majority of Shinoa's baby-blue tiled kitchen was made up of candy. Shinoa had a whole cupboard above the fridge dedicated solely to chocolates, and every other drawer had at least one candy bar or lollipop. Even the utensil drawers. Every little piece was prepared in bright pink wrappers, reading a name in swirling letters that Sousuke instantly recognized from every over-priced candy shop in Tokyo. Kisumi hadn't been lying when he'd said his grandma had made big bucks through candy. 

There were two things Sousuke was concerned with after his candy kitchen-raid: one, how he was going to keep Makoto from eating it all, and two, how the fuck Kisumi's grandmother managed to remain so damn skinny with all this crap lying around. Maybe she was storing it in case of a candy apocalypse, or something. 

One thing Sousuke was far from concerned about was having enough to make it through the week. With all the food Shinoa managed to keep crammed in that tiny little space, the two of them alone could easily eat comfortably without putting so much as a dent in her stash. Sousuke was already planning what he'd cook for the next couple days, based solely on what he'd seen so far. He'd have no trouble putting together a generous birthday dinner the next day, to say the very least. 

“What a cutie patootie,” Makoto cooed to the little tabby sitting on his chest, after he'd sprawled out on Shinoa's couch and was immediately pounced on. The other cats, (a flat-faced Persian and a skittish calico,) were bound to be close by as well. The second Makoto had left the guest room they'd crowded him. He stroked her striped fur with one hand and scratched her chin with the other, murmuring nonsense at her as she purred furiously. “With your itty bitty ears, and your itty bitty paws, and your itty bitty nose...”

Sousuke sat down beside him with a heavy sigh. “Okay. How the hell do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Bewitch them like that,” he said. He corrected himself when Makoto gave him a perplexed, almost insulted look as he sat up. “You know. Make them like you immediately. I thought cats weren't supposed to like anybody.”

“They like me,” Makoto said with a pleased, babying voice. He made a kissy face at the little tabby, (Sousuke vaguely remembered her being named something like Cotton,) and she placed two paws on his chest and craned up to sniff at his chin.

Sousuke huffed. “It doesn't make any sense. You're like a cat magnet.”

“A cat magnet,” Makoto repeated with a laugh. “That's the best thing you could've ever called me.”

“Really? The best?”

“Mm-hm. A cat magnet is the best thing to be, in my opinion.” He wrinkled his nose and actually giggled when Cotton touched her whiskers to his neck. “If there was such a thing as a professional cat magnet, that's all I'd aspire to be.”

“You'd be pretty good at it.”

“I'd be the best.”

“A living legend.”

“A true inspiration.”

Cotton meowed in what was possibly agreement. She turned in Makoto's lap before curling into a ball, her tail flicking briefly against Makoto's collarbone. Sousuke hesitated, before reaching forward to scratch the soft spot between her ears. She didn't move away, so he let his fingers ghost down the fur of her spine, incredibly pleased despite himself. When he glanced back up, Makoto was watching him with such a fond smile that his stomach rolled.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey.”

“You know what's weird?”

“Hm?”

“We've got an apartment to ourselves.”

Makoto nodded. “We do. That is weird.”  
“Are you scared?” Sousuke asked teasingly, moving closer and looping an arm around him. The tips of their noses brushed. “Of being alone with big, grumpy, intimidating me?”

Makoto's smile widened. “I'm not scared of you.”

“You're not?”

“Nope. Are you scared of me?”

“Terrified.”

Makoto laughed, and Sousuke wasted no time cupping the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. He grunted in surprise but recovered pretty quickly, his hands snaking up Sousuke's chest to grip the collar of his shirt and pull their bodies closer. Cotton gave a startled mewl and leaped off Makoto's lap, but if Makoto noticed, (or cared,) he gave no sign of it. One hand released Sousuke's collar to slip up and grip his hair, and Sousuke groaned into their kiss with satisfaction. He let his own touch wander down the angles and curves of Makoto's side, pausing briefly at his ass before following the rise of his thigh.

“Shit, Sousuke,” Makoto puffed, his spine arching. He pulled back enough to laugh breathlessly. “Please keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Just...” He flushed and licked his lips in a way that was much too arousing. “Touching me all over.”

“I hate you,” Sousuke groaned. He pressed them back, far enough for Makoto to slump against the cushions and for him to crawl over. He caught a flash of Makoto's smile before their lips crashed together again, wet and messy and so desperate that it made Sousuke feel as if they hadn't touched in weeks. He grasped at any part of Makoto he could – hips, thighs, ribcage, arms, – letting his hands grip and drag across the fabric separating them. His mind buzzed with Makoto's taste, with the feeling of their tugging lips and pressing tongues and mingling breath. The places where they touched burned with an excited, aggressive heat, and everywhere else seemed deadened and cold in comparison. Sousuke pressed himself down harder against the hard lines and rises of Makoto's body, his skin itching in desperation for some friction, and Makoto arched his spine against him, his breath coming short. The sensation of their hearts pounding raggedly together was enough to send exhilarated shivers up Sousuke's spine.

Makoto's fingers fell from Sousuke's hair to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons and practically ripping it open when he managed to get them all loose. He forced it over his shoulders and threw it somewhere over their heads. As soon as it was decidedly out of the way he dragged his hands down the expanse of Sousuke's back and moaned softly into his mouth, as if touching Sousuke's bare skin gave him shuddering relief.

“Sousuke,” he panted when they parted for a moment. He craned his neck to nip at Sousuke’s lip. His hands grasped Sousuke's ass through his jeans, before sweeping around his hips to sluggishly wrestle with his belt. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, so raspy it tickled the corners of Sousuke's chest. “I want you naked.”

“Fuck,” Sousuke groaned out. He jerked into motion, grasping the hem of Makoto's t-shirt and forcing it over his head. Their lips found each other as they struggled with Sousuke's belt, managing to yank it out of his belt loops and cast it to the floor to keep his shirt company. Makoto sat up and focused on the button of Sousuke's pants, popping it open so forcefully Sousuke was a little surprised it didn't come off entirely. His zipper was pulled down with a little more care, but it still managed to drag against his growing erection and force a gasp from his throat.

It took some maneuvering, but Sousuke wriggled out of his jeans without disturbing their position too much and righted himself in Makoto's lap, panting. Makoto had freed himself of his own belt in the meantime, and laid back to awkwardly shimmy out of his tight jeans. Sousuke laughed and helped yank them down, and it didn't take very long before the pants joined the rest of their clothes in a heap on the floor.

Sousuke wasn't entirely sure what happened next, but suddenly Makoto's hand was pushing him back down against the couch cushions and Makoto was on top of him, green eyes flashing. He looked almost lion-like, with his golden-brown hair hanging around his face like a mane and his gaze sharpened with something almost predatory.

“You look so good,” he rasped. He moved down to mouth at Sousuke's neck, his hair tickling Sousuke’s jaw and his tongue leaving searing marks against his skin. One hand snaked underneath Sousuke's spine to grope his ass through the thin material of his boxer briefs, and Sousuke let out a strangled moan. His hips bucked up involuntarily. Makoto laughed against his throat. “Eager?”

“Shut up and take my underwear off.”

“So bossy,” Makoto mused, his smile nearly unbearable. He obediently tugged Sousuke’s briefs down, and Sousuke suppressed a shiver at the sudden cool air against his bare skin. He brought his knees together out of instinct, but Makoto caught his legs and led them open again. He shifted back to lay on his stomach, gripped Sousuke’s hips, and closed his mouth around the head of Sousuke’s cock. 

Burning heat immediately erupted up Sousuke’s spine. He gasped and arched his back, every muscle in his body shuddering as Makoto’s mouth slowly moved further down, his tongue lapping at the taut skin of Sousuke’s erection. He came back up excruciatingly slow, full lips blossoming forward, and the sensation of his hands and mouth pressing against him made Sousuke question if he was in heaven or hell or some new otherworldly realm that had yet to be written about in a book. 

He wasn’t conscious of moaning, but he must’ve, because Makoto pulled away with a smile that managed to be both sweet and filthy. “You have no idea how much your voice turns me on.” 

“No, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Sousuke managed to choke out. He propped himself up on his elbows and reached out to graze Makoto’s jaw. His legs ached with a need to spread further. “Fuck, please keep going.” 

Makoto’s smiled, as if he was incredibly flattered by the question. He massaged Sousuke’s sides with pressing, firm fingers, before slipping his hands between his body and the couch cushions and lifting his hips up slightly. He took Sousuke’s cock back into his mouth and squeezed his ass, and Sousuke let out a thick snarl, his head dropping back against the couch armrest. He bit back a howl as Makoto suddenly took most of him in as if it were an afterthought, tongue teasing the sensitive skin and warm breath setting the nerves of the head on fire. 

“Oh my-FUCK,” Sousuke gasped. Makoto’s throat purred with a chuckle. He moved back up slowly before sinking down fast, his nose nearly brushing the thick black hair at the base. His hands groped Sousuke’s ass and pushed his hips further up as he moved up and down. Sousuke groaned and grappled for a hold on the couch cushions with one hand. The other found a place clamped over his mouth to keep a shattered whine at bay. The hypnotic, burning sensation of Makoto’s lips moving around his cock was enough to force whimper after unfortunate whimper from his lungs. 

“Don’t hold back,” Makoto whispered after pulling off with a resounding pop. He licked his swollen lips and grinned. “We’ve got the place to ourselves, remember?” 

“Can’t help it,” Sousuke panted, grudgingly letting his hand fall. “‘It’s reflex.” 

“Reflex? Do you have to stifle your voice often, Sousuke?”

Sousuke groaned. “Please shut up and keep going. I’m so close.” 

“Hm,” Makoto hummed, pursing his lips. “Is it awful of me to want to tease you a bit?” 

A frustrated snarl forced its way through Sousuke’s clenched teeth. “Fuck yeah, it is. I want to come.” 

“But you look so good like this…” Makoto murmured, his eyes glazed and soft. He smiled and grazed his tongue up Sousuke’s shaft, barely more than a wet, tickling touch, and Sousuke shuddered. Firm, warm fingers wrapped around him and tugged. The sudden friction was enough to force a gasp from his throat. He let his eyes roll back and his eyelashes flutter, hips shifting as Makoto licked the precum from the tip. 

“You’re so gorgeous.”

“M-Makoto, I swear, if you don’t stop fucking teasing me…” 

Makoto laughed breathlessly. “You don’t like being teased? And what would you rather have me do, Sousuke?” 

“Just make me come,” Sousuke hissed. He pressed his head hard against the cushions and lifted his hips. “Please.” 

“And what if I decide that I like teasing you?” 

“Then you’re a dick.” 

Makoto laughed and gave a nod of defeat. He shifted up onto his knees, the muscles of his back rippling like that of a big cat stalking its prey, before closing his mouth firmly around the head of Sousuke’s cock and dropping to take him almost completely in. Sousuke let out a strangled snarl, bucking up into that wonderful, wet warmth, and suddenly he was toppling over the edge and letting loose a series of curses that would surely earn him a hard smack from any self-respecting nun. 

He was still floating in fuzzy white bliss when he felt Makoto crawl over him and reach for the little table at the couch’s side. There must’ve been a tissue box there, because Makoto began to wipe him off with something flimsy and soft. He slumped back and sighed. His abs and hips ached from tensing desperately. It kinda felt like he’d just done a hundred curl ups, but with an orgasm at the end. 

“You alright?” Makoto asked. His voice was painfully amused and breathy. 

“Mmm.” 

Makoto laughed. “Good.”

“How the fuck do you do that?” Sousuke said. He let out a frustrated puff. “Your mouth should be illegal.” 

“That would be terribly inconvenient for the both of us,” Makoto said, licking his lips. He grinned, as if he’d just finished singing a solo in a children’s choir, instead of giving a blowjob. “I have to say, I’m pretty pleased with myself. I managed to swallow and clean up everything before it got on Shinoa-san’s pretty black couch.” 

“Mmmm.” His eyes falling shut, Sousuke groped around for Makoto’s arm and pulled him closer for a sleepy kiss. “I’m so proud of you, babe.” 

Makoto smiled against his lips. “Babe? That’s a new one.” 

“Do you not like it?” 

“No, no. I like it. Just never took you for a a guy who likes nicknames.” 

“I’m not, really. I don’t know. Never had anyone to use them on in the first place.” 

“Me neither,” Makoto said. He shifted over him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his hot breath stirring against his skin. “But I do like it. It’s cute.” 

“And it fits, since you’re a bonafide babe,” Sousuke pointed out in a flat tone, and Makoto laughed against his cheek. He squirmed closer, and Sousuke opened his eyes and lifted his eyebrows at the obvious bulge pressing against his leg. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re hard.” 

Makoto swallowed. “Um. Yeah.” 

“Really hard,” Sousuke said, his smirk widening as he pressed his thigh experimentally against Makoto’s crotch. Makoto let out a soft whine and rolled his hips forward, which made Sousuke chuckle. “Hard as a rock.” 

“D-don’t say stuff like that,” Makoto protested weakly. 

“Why? It’s the truth.” Sousuke pulled himself up. He twisted and crawled over Makoto, biting his lip in an effort to stifle his shit-eating grin. “You get that hard from giving a blowjob?” 

“Your moans… do stuff to me,” Makoto admitted. He flushed scarlet when Sousuke laughed. “Don’t laugh! You’re no better. Besides. I’m nineteen, and I haven’t done stuff like this a lot, and it’s been a while since I-” 

“Since you what?” Sousuke hummed. He bent down to nip at Makoto’s earlobe, incredibly pleased when Makoto shuddered in response. “Since you last came?” 

“Sousuke…” Makoto breathed, his face flushing. 

“Makoto.” He let his deep voice caress the three syllables softly. His hand fell down the tensed angles of Makoto’s chest, the ripple of his abs and the swell of his hips. He pinched the elastic of his briefs between his fingers and tugged slightly. “Do you want me to return the favor?” 

“F-favor,” Makoto echoed. He threw his arms over his blushing face, his throat working as he swallowed. “You don’t have to…” 

Sousuke laughed. He tugged the briefs down an inch, just enough for short, dark brown hair to show over the elastic. “You haven’t shaved for a while.” 

“Coach gave us time off before fall break, so I didn’t bother,” Makoto murmured, his voice thick. He peeked at Sousuke from underneath his arms. “I can shave it, if you want. It’s your birthday tomorrow, after all…” 

“I honestly couldn’t care less,” Sousuke said. He pulled the boxer briefs off entirely with a flick of his wrists, and Makoto inhaled sharply, his back arching just off the couch. “You look hot as fuck no matter what.” 

Makoto made a whining sound in his throat. His cheeks were so red they practically glowed. “S-Sousuke, you really don’t have to…You just came...” 

“Oh, no. I’m giving you a blowjob, Makoto. How else am I expected to get you back for all that teasing?” 

Makoto smiled weakly. “Uh oh.” 

Sousuke gave him a smirk, before shifting back onto his stomach. He held Makoto’s hips and pulled him closer. Makoto moaned softly when he pressed a kiss to the head of his cock. 

“Consider it payback.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pssst you guys should tell me who should top first I can't make up my mind ;3;


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *weeps* the longest chapter yet. Pls kill me
> 
> OKAY SO I'm super sorry for bot updating in forever, but stuff at home has been incredibly messy lately. I'm mid-move, mid-college stuff, mid-vacation out in the wilderness, mid-personal issues. It's... been a lot. Hopefully it'll be better from here on out!

Sousuke woke up in a big, lumpy bed, to the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly-fallen rain. Not a bad way to wake up. But, because fate loved him oh so much, he also happened to wake up to a cat’s ass in his face. 

It was that stupid white Persian. The one that was so fat it waddled everywhere it went, its long snowy fur nearly dragging on the ground. It must’ve decided that Sousuke’s chest was a great place to camp out for its early morning wash. The little shit. Sousuke opened his eyes with a frustrated growl. He spat a mouthful of cat hair out of his mouth, and it turned to blink down at him with blank amber eyes. It’s squished face might’ve been comical and maybe even a little cute, if not for the look it gave him that stank with superiority. 

“Get off of me,” he snarled at it. The cat flicked its ear, unimpressed, and returned to licking its paw daintily. It flicked its tail over Sousuke’s face, and Sousuke had to refrain from grabbing it by its scruff and tossing it as far as he could across the room. He settled with shoving it off of his chest and ignoring the hiss he got in return.

With a groan he forced himself to sit up. The room was empty besides them. It was dark this morning, the only light offered through the window being the faint glow of the swirling storm clouds that sat over the crest of the city. Stray raindrops caught on the glass, speckling it with little shiny warnings of the autumn storm to come. 

There was a sudden clatter from the kitchen, followed by a whispered, “Dammit,” and the sound of cats meowing worriedly. For a brief moment Sousuke wondered if somebody had broken in and he’d be expected to fend them off with a lamp, or something, but whoever it was shushed the cats and told them not to ruin the surprise. He relaxed and resisted the urge to laugh. Definitely Makoto. 

With a tired puff he threw his legs over the edge of the mattress and got to his feet. The Persian watched him with wide amber eyes, its plumy tail flicking irritably. He ignored it and made his way out of the bedroom in nothing but his boxer briefs. As weird as it was, the feeling of strolling around a fancy apartment in his underwear was actually incredibly satisfying. He wasn’t very shy about his body back at the dorms either, but something about strutting around this ridiculous home with nearly no clothes on brought a whole new meaning to comfort and confidence. He would’ve definitely recommended it. 

Makoto was at the stove in a similar state of dress. He only wore a tattered t-shirt with a video game logo on it and boxer briefs, his tan legs looking about a mile long with nothing but his underwear to cover him. His hair was damp and slicked back, so Sousuke assumed he’d woken up pretty early to shower. When Sousuke slipped into the kitchen he didn’t look up from grumbling at the pan of sizzling bacon he had on the stove. Sousuke smiled fondly and leaned against the counter, content with quietly watching his boyfriend fuss with the amount of butter to add and how long the bacon strips were supposed to fry. 

Makoto didn’t realize he was there until he turned to put the butter back into the fridge. He yelped and nearly dropped it, and the two cats that had joined Sousuke in watching both meowed in concern. 

“S-shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Makoto said, putting a hand on his chest. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!” 

Sousuke offered an apologetic smile that probably didn’t look all that apologetic. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” 

“Yes, you could’ve,” Makot grumbled. His face flushed with embarrassment as he opened the fridge door and set the butter inside. “Honestly, you’re going to kill me one of these days.” 

“Oh, please. You’re tougher than that, surely,” Sousuke replied, earning himself a frustrated, flustered look. He grinned and nodded to the bacon. “Smells good. Do I get some of that?” 

“Of course. It’s your birthday breakfast,” Makoto said. Realization sparked in his eyes and he froze. “Crap. I wasn’t supposed to wake you. This was supposed to be breakfast in bed.” 

“Huh?” 

“Did I wake you up when I dropped that pan? I did, didn’t I? Shit.” 

“Whoa, wait-”

“Do me a favor and please go back to bed?” Makoto asked, putting his hands together in a pleading motion and offering a weak smile. It was much, much too cute for its own good. And it certainly didn’t help that he looked ridiculously adorable in those boxer briefs and that video game t-shirt. “I’ll be done in no more than five minutes, I promise. Then I can bring it in for you and you can act surprised, right?” 

“Wait, wait.” Sousuke held his hands up in surrender. “You’re making me breakfast in bed?” 

“Well, yeah. That was the plan, anyways. I didn’t expect you to wake up this soon, so I figured I had enough time to finish it all and surprise you when you woke up. But the rice took forever to boil and I accidentally got egg shells in the mix so I had to start all over with the omelette….” 

“But why?” Sousuke asked. He caught himself at Makoto’s perplexed expression. “I mean, you really didn’t have to…” 

“But I wanted to,” Makoto replied simply. He gave a wider smile and made little, celebratory jazz-hands. “Because it’s your twentieth birthday! Woo-hoo!” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a wider grin of his own. Damn Tachibana and his adorable tendencies. “Isn’t this a lot of work, though? When did you wake up?” 

“You know, I don’t feel obligated to tell you that,” Makoto said. He turned to save the bacon from frying to a crisp, turning the well-cooked strips over quickly before setting them on a plate with little tongs. “Because it really doesn’t matter. Birthday boys shouldn’t be concerned about that sort of thing.” 

“Bullshit,” Sousuke said. He came to stand at Makoto’s side. “Makoto, you really don’t have to do all this for me. It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“Careful, or you’ll make me feel like you don’t appreciate it.” 

Sousuke swallowed. “N-no, of course I appreciate it, I’m just saying-”

“I know,” Makoto said, and he gave him a teasing smile. “But I really do want to do this. I very rarely get to spoil you, so I’m more than happy to spend some time with it.” 

“‘Very rarely get to spoil me?’” Sousuke echoed. “Sorry, gonna have to call bullshit on that, too. The amount of meals you’ve bought me and the amount of surprise make-out sessions you’ve started beg to differ.” 

Makoto gave him an exasperated look. “Would you please just go back to bed? Honestly, your arguing is more of a bother than making you breakfast is.” 

“Alright, alright. You know, you’re very bossy this morning.” 

“I take my birthday surprises very seriously,” he replied. He gave Sousuke a hip-check. “Now go. I’ll be right in, I promise. Two minutes.” 

“Two minutes,” Sousuke confirmed. He planted a firm kiss on Makoto’s cheek before turning away and going back to the bedroom. The Persian was still on the bed, strewn out royally. It gave him a disapproving look as soon as he crawled back under the covers, which he blatantly ignored. He grabbed the remote control to the little TV on the elegant black dresser and switched it on. It blinked to life, immediately showing the opening to a romantic comedy that Rin had been pretty fond of back in high school. He couldn’t be bothered to change it, so he threw the remote casually towards the cat, smirked when it gave a startled hiss, and snuggled back into the pillows to watch. 

Makoto came in a couple minutes later with a tray in his hands and a stupidly sweet smile on his face. 

“Surprise!” he said, and Sousuke faked a gasp of shock. Makoto laughed so brightly he seemed to light up the cloud-darkened room with his smile alone. It made Sousuke’s heart do excited little skips against his ribs.

“Happy twentieth, Sousuke,” he said, setting the tray down on Sousuke’s blanket-clad lap. “Breakfast in bed for your first morning as a legal adult, courtesy of me and Shinoa-san’s impressive stock of food in her kitchen.” 

“Holy shit.” Sousuke steadied the tray with his hands, saliva immediately gathering in his mouth. Makoto had put together a plate of an impressive amount of bacon and sunny-side-up eggs, the edges of the whites just slightly darkened. A little bowl of white tamanishiki rice was placed beside it, the grains only just glazed with golden vinegar. And, sitting primly just behind the chopsticks, was a tall can of cola. Not orange juice, not water, not tea. Cola. 

It was so beautiful Sousuke felt like he was going to cry. 

“I fucking love you,” he breathed, snatching the chopsticks and immediately shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth. It was a little overdone, but the taste that exploded across his tongue when he crunched it between his teeth made up for it ten fold. Holy shit, when had bacon become so good. He hadn’t eaten any since before graduation, and the sudden reunion he was experiencing with it was enough to make him moan rather sensually. Makoto laughed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the Persian’s fur. The cat purred and crawled into his lap. 

“You like it?” he asked. 

Sousuke replied with an enthusiastic grunt and nod, taking a clump of rise between his chopsticks and sticking it into his mouth to keep the bacon company. He leaned over the tray to pop open the cola. Once he swallowed he brought it to his lips to chug. The cold, bubbling ambrosia of the gods sang a lullaby to his tongue and caressed his throat. 

Makoto laughed again. “Slow down, you’re going to kill yourself.” 

“Fine by me,” Sousuke replied once he’d set the can back down. He stabbed one of the egg yolks and licked the yellow from his chopsticks. “This is how I want to die: with a lap full of breakfast food served by a hot babe.” 

Makoto snorted, his face flushing pink. “Well, don’t die yet, because I still have plans for your birthday. Presents and stuff.” 

“Wha?” Sousuke managed around a mouthful of rice and egg. “This isn’t my birthday present?” 

“No, this is your birthday breakfast,” Makoto replied. “I’ll give you your presents later.” 

“Presents. As in plural.” 

“Well, yeah. They’re not all from me, though. Rin and Gou sent something, and Momo and Ai gave me a present to give to you, too. And my everybody from Iwatobi made cards.”

“At your request?” 

“...Maybe.” 

“Makoto, this is really too much. I told you, I don’t need-” 

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing fancy,” he said, waving him off. “Tonight is going to be on the down-low. It’ll basically just be the two of us hanging out here. No parties, or anything.” 

Sousuke relaxed. “Okay. But still. It feels like you’re doing a lot for me.” 

“I’m really not,” Makoto said with a laugh. “Breakfast and a present is hardly much. I’m used to throwing much more extravagant birthday celebrations. For the twins especially.”

“Well, it seems like a lot,” Sousuke muttered. He stuck a strip of bacon in his mouth. “I’m not really used to having a celebration at all.” 

Makoto’s smile faltered. “Not at all?” 

“Nope. My birthdays have always pretty much consisted of just making dinner with my sister and getting a box in the mail from my parents. They were out of town a lot during the fall.” He rolled his eyes. “They always sent me the same thing, too. An empty journal and a fountain pen. My mom tried to spice it up a couple times with toys or money, but most of the time it stayed the same.” 

“Oh.” Makoto’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Really not that big of a deal,” Sousuke said with a shrug. “I know my mom beats herself up about not being around a lot for my birthdays, but I prefered the quiet. Much better than a big party with a bunch of people I didn’t really like.” 

Makoto chuckled. “You haven’t changed much over the years, huh?” 

“Not at all.” 

He laughed, and the persian cat gave a bored meow and leaped off his legs. He took the opportunity to scoot up against the headboard, their shoulders brushing. 

“So, speaking of your birthday,” he said, reaching over to pinch a strip of bacon between his fingers and bring it to his lips. “Do… Do you wanna talk about tonight?” 

“What about tonight?” Sousuke asked without looking up. Makoto coughed uncomfortably, and he glanced up at him to see lifted eyebrows and a soft blush. “Oh. Right. Birthday sex.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, um.” He set his chopsticks down to put his focus entirely on Makoto. “What’s there to talk about?” 

“I just wanted to ask how you wanted to… go about it.” Makoto winced. “Like, do you have any preference on who tops and who bottoms? Or, I don’t know, position?” 

“Oh. Not really,” Sousuke said. It was suddenly very hard to concentrate on Makoto’s face, instead of the rest of him. “Do you have a preference?” 

“I don’t know,” Makoto admitted. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. I’ve only been with one other person before, and that was a girl, so…” 

Sousuke tilted his head. “You’re thinking you should top because of that?” 

“Well, I thought so. But I’m also terrified of messing it up for you, since it’s your birthday and our first time, and all. I doubt it’s very similar, anyways. I don’t know much, but what I do have the decency to understand is that anal sex is pretty different from… well, you know.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help but smile. “Vaginal sex?” 

Makoto’s ears turned the color of a tomato. He shyly mumbled a: “Yeah.” 

“You’re cute,” Sousuke said, chuckling. He gave him a nudge with his shoulder. “Pure little Tachibana, who can’t say the word ‘vagina’ without blushing.” 

“Oh yeah, I’m very pure,” Makoto said with exaggerated sarcasm, despite the deep scarlet plaguing his cheeks. “It’s not like I had you naked on a black leather couch last night, or anything.” 

He said it jokingly, but for some reason hearing him say it like that made Sousuke’s stomach knot and twist in all the right ways. He felt his grin widen and shifted under the blankets, causing the breakfast tray’s contents to chime against each other softly. “Okay, that may or may not have been super arousing.” 

Makoto lifted an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It’s hot when you say stuff like that.” 

“But I was just…” Makoto said, flushing down to his collarbone. He winced. “Kidding.” 

“I know, but it’s still hot,” Sousuke replied. He gave Makoto a wink. “Your voice does stuff to me, too, you know.” 

“Oh.” Makoto blinked at him in alarm for a moment, as if it was news that his voice could be moderately arousing. He recovered pretty quickly, a smile coming to his face despite the obvious blush dusted across his freckled cheekbones. “My voice does stuff to you?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“What sort of stuff?” 

“You know.” Sousuke made an obvious glance down at his crotch. “Stuff.” 

Makoto let out a burst of laughter, his teeth flashing in the dim, smoky lighting of the room. “You are an incredibly subtle guy, aren’t you?” 

“The subtlest,” Sousuke agreed in a thick murmur, leaning over to kiss his lips. Makoto pushed into his touch warmly, blindly. His mouth was soft and insistent and all sorts of wet, and Sousuke had to hold onto the tray tight to keep it from slipping as they moved closer. Makoto cupped his throat reverently as he twisted into a better position. His long legs folded out across the covers, tan, bare skin and the stripes of rain reflecting from the window making him look like a lounging tiger. 

“Talk dirty to me,” Sousuke said between shorter, sloppier kisses. His mind was too muddled with the feeling of Makoto’s mouth to tell if he was serious or not. 

Makoto hummed. He pulled away just enough for their eyes to meet, noses brushing. “You want me to talk dirty to you?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

“Okay. You,” he began, dropping his voice to a low rasp that sent a shiver up Sousuke’s spine. He leaned forward and dipped his head to graze his lips against Sousuke’s jaw, following the angle slowly up to his ear and nipping the lobe gently. When he spoke again, the words quivered low in his throat. “You, Yamazaki-san….” 

Sousuke swallowed hard. He shifted under the covers and let his eyes fall shut, more delighted than he should’ve been at being called ‘-san’ so reverently. 

“Oh, Yamazaki-san,” Makoto purred to the shell of his ear. One of his hands snuck up his bare chest and pressed against his sternum. He moved to touch their lips ever so softly, and Sousuke opened his mouth without a second thought. He let out a shuddering breath as Makoto swept his tongue over his bottom lip, barely more than a whisper of a wet touch. “You taste…” 

Sousuke opened his eyes to meet his darkened gaze, his throat suddenly closing up. “I taste like what?” 

Makoto regarded him for a moment, his expression cool and calculated. A sudden quirk of his lips disrupted the demeanor, and the stony look he’d been wearing a second before was replaced by a warm smile and a teasing light in his eyes. 

“You taste like bacon, of course,” he said in a faux babying voice. Sousuke gave a mighty, (disappointed,) roll of his eyes and pushed Makoto’s face away with one hand. Makoto laughed against his palm. 

“You’re sick,” Sousuke grumbled, throwing a bitter strip of bacon into his mouth. 

“For comparing you to bacon or for ruining the mood?” 

“Both,” he said with a huff. He plucked up the last, pitiful strip and shook it scoldingly in Makoto’s face. “How dare you. It’s my fucking birthday. I don’t deserve this.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” Makoto said, looking anything but apologetic. He folded his legs and leaned forward to tug the strip of bacon out of Sousuke’s hand with his teeth, pulling it into his mouth to chew. “It’s your own fault, though, for making it so easy.” 

“You’re a little shit.” 

Makoto grinned. “I won’t deny that.” 

“You’d be lying through your teeth if you did,” Sousuke growled bitterly, and Makoto laughed.

\---000---

A couple hours later, (after finishing breakfast and promptly falling asleep again,) Sousuke managed to roll out of bed. He vaguely remembered Makoto telling him he was going out for a jog after clearing the tray, so he took that as the reason why Makoto wasn’t around when he stumbled back into the front room of the apartment. With nothing else to really entertain himself with, Sousuke decided to raid the fridge again and figure out what he was going to do for dinner. 

Shinoa’s stash was really something special, but most of it was expired or useless for a respectable dinner. So Sousuke checked his wallet, grabbed one of the spare keys left on the counter, and headed out of the apartment. He found his way down to the lobby and asked Mari where the nearest grocery store was. She directed him just down the street, thank the almighty. 

It felt odd, walking down the street and waltzing into the grocery store with the knowledge that he had somebody else to shop for. And it felt especially odd to skip past the crap he usually shopped for, (cup o’ noodles, cheese sticks, Easy Rice, et cetera,) and head straight for the isles where he’d find ingredients for an actual meal. It all felt very grown-up. 

He straightened a little when he came to the realization that he could safely call himself that, now. Even if he did feel no older than he had when he was seventeen. 

After some consideration, Sousuke decided to swap out a couple spare ingredients for a cheap bottle of wine. He probably could’ve bought it before with no trouble, since he looked a good five years older than he really was, but it was still incredibly satisfying putting it on the checkout counter and not being questioned. 

Something caught his eye as the cashier was checking out the last ingredient: a row of durex condom boxes and lube, under the magazine display. He swallowed, before reaching out and grabbing one of the boxes to study it. He felt heat rise to his face as he threw it onto the checkout counter, before reaching for a bottle of lube, too. He grabbed the next size up in condoms, too. Just in case. 

“Looks like you’ve got an eventful night planned,” the older woman behind the counter said teasingly as she scanned the barcode on the wine bottle. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sousuke said. He tried not to fidget awkwardly when she reached for the condom boxes. “I guess you could say that.” 

“Anniversary?” 

“Birthday celebration, actually.” 

“Looks like it’s just for two,” she commented with a fond smile, glancing at the couple plastic bags of ingredients. “Not much of a party person, are you?” 

Sousuke offered a tired smile. “No, not at all.” 

“Well, I hope you have a good night,” she said. She glanced up and gave him a little wink. “She’s a lucky girl, to have such a considerate boyfriend.” 

Deciding it was best not to correct her, he thanked her and grabbed the groceries. It was thundering outside when he slipped out onto the bustling sidewalk. The rain was beginning to come down harder, and he paused at the sliding doors to pull his hood up. The people crowding the walkway offered some cover with their mass of umbrellas, but it was more of a bother than a convenience as he ducked to avoid them. Damn his long legs and broad shoulders. 

When he returned to the hotel, (after missing a street and accidentally walking halfway up the wrong block,) Sousuke’s hair was dripping and his wet jeans clung to his legs. His sneakers squeaked and squelched against the fancy tile as he approached the head desk. Mari glanced up when he approached and smiled politely. 

“Yamazaki-san,” she said. “Welcome back. Tachibana-san just returned from his jog. You just missed him on the elevator.” 

“Oh. Okay,” Sousuke said, a little disturbed by her specific knowledge of what they were doing. Did she know this sort of stuff about everybody in the building? 

“He had a friend with him, as well,” Mari replied, glancing down at her desk computer. “Nanase-san, I believe. The quiet boy that the Shiginos have had over a couple times. I wasn’t aware he knew you two, as well.” 

Sousuke nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, we go back. He’s here?” 

“Yes. Tachibana-san probably picked him up on his way back from his jog.” 

“Makes sense. Makoto said Nanase would be coming over,” Sousuke muttered. He gave Mari a nod of thanks, adjusted his grip on the bags, and moved over to the elevator. He pressed the button with his knee and slipped inside when the doors eased open. 

He was just pulling the key out to unlock the apartment’s door when two voices from inside made him pause. Makoto’s and Nanase’s, probably. Their voices were no more than muffled whispers through the door, but from what Sousuke heard, their tones sounded serious. He didn’t want to interrupt something important, but he couldn’t exactly stand outside dripping wet, so he gave a sigh of defeat and slipped the key in. He nudged it open with his foot, picked up the bags again, and slipped inside. He prodded the door shut behind him with a tap of his butt. 

Makoto and Nanase were probably in the other room, because they weren’t in the living room or the kitchen. Their voices were clearer inside. Sousuke didn’t mean to listen as he set the groceries down on the kitchen counter, but he couldn’t help it. They weren’t exactly whispering. 

“...think I should?” Nanase was saying. His flat voice was oddly perplexed. 

Makoto’s reply came after a short, hesitant pause. “I think it could be really good for you, yeah. But you don’t have to listen to me. It’s your choice.” 

“Stop saying that. Help me make a decision.” 

“I’m trying,” Makoto said with a laugh. “But I’m not going to decide for you.” 

“Fine. Then tell me why you think I should.” 

“Well… I think that it’ll help you feel less stressed. Romance is supposed to help with stress, right? And I think he really understands you, even if you two seem like polar opposites.”

“He doesn’t need to be my boyfriend to understand me, though. He can understand me fine as a friend.” 

“But he cares a lot about you. As something more than a friend,” Makoto said. He paused. “Don’t you care about him as something more than a friend, too?” 

Nanase’s voice was small when he replied. “I dunno.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Well… Yes. Okay.” 

“Okay, what?” 

“Okay, I do care about him as something more than a friend.” 

Makoto hummed in amusement. “I’m glad. So…. If you care about him as something more than a friend, then don’t you want to be with him? Surely it’s not that complicated.”

“It is, though,” Nanase said impatiently, but his shortness didn’t seem focused on Makoto specifically. “There are things in the way. I have to leave, a lot. I have to travel for tournaments. And he’s going to school in Iwatobi. A new relationship is hard enough as it is, but adding distance….” 

“...means a whole new level of complications,” Makoto finished for him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, does it really hurt to try? What’s the harm in giving this a shot?” 

“You don’t get it. When I think about it, there’s not much of a point.” 

“Not a point? You care about him.” 

“Yeah, but caring isn’t going to solve the hundreds of miles between us. It’d be too much effort. Even for him.” Nanase sighed. “You don’t get it.” 

“I do get it, Haru. Look, I’m just as inexperienced as you when it comes to this sort of thing. I get that it can be… scary. But I don’t want you to miss a chance with somebody you like over something like this.” Makoto fell silent, and, for a moment, the apartment seemed to pulse with the words he was waiting to say. 

When he did speak, it made Sousuke stumble a little. 

“This isn’t like when Rin left, Haru.” 

Nanase’s reply was sharp. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean this is different. Look, I know that’s what you’re thinking of. I know you’re worried about distance with Kisumi because of how Rin shut us out after stepping on that plane. And I know you’re worried about distance because of your parents, and how often they were away when we were kids.” 

“Makoto,” Nanase muttered in warning. 

“But it doesn’t have to be like that,” Makoto continued, ignoring his tone. “Haru, Kisumi cares about you. And you care about him. Distance doesn’t have to mean he disappears forever. Trust me, I know Kisumi. Ever since graduation he’s fought to keep the both of us in his life, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. Especially if you decide to date him. Honestly, just say the word, and I have no doubt that he’d happily meet you more than halfway with this.” 

“I don’t want him to meet me more than halfway,” Nanase insisted. “If we’re going to be together, then I don’t want him putting in more effort than me. That’s not fair.” He gave a frustrated huff. “But it’s hard, because I’m me. And I’m not good at meeting people halfway.” 

“I know.” 

“I just...don’t want to waste time.” 

“His time, or yours?” 

“His.” 

“Hey. You’re not wasting his time. He likes you a lot.” 

“How can you know that?” 

“Haru,” Makoto said, his voice both tired and fond. “Just trust me. I’m not going to fight you on this. If you’re sure you want to put your relationship with Kisumi on hold, or turn away from it altogether, then I’m not going to stop you. You know I’m always on your side.” 

“But you still think I should agree,” Nanase said. 

“Yes. But what you think is what matters.” 

Nanase sighed again. “Alright. Thanks, Makoto.” 

“Of course, Haru.” 

“Yamazaki can stop pretending like he’s not in the other room, now.” 

As if to punctuate Nanase’s words, the plastic tupperware in Sousuke’s hands slipped and clattered against the tile of the kitchen. He winced and bent over to hurriedly pick it up. When he straightened, both Nanase and Makoto were watching him from the doorway to the bedroom. 

“Um,” he managed. “I was just…” 

“Eavesdropping,” Nanase finished for him. 

“Give him a break,” Makoto said, before Sousuke could gather himself and send back a stinging reply. “There’s not exactly a surplus of places for him to go. And look at how wet he is, the poor thing.” 

Nanase looked Sousuke up and down. He gave a short nod. “That helps his case a bit, I guess.” 

“Where did you go?” Makoto asked Sousuke, stepping out of the room to approach him. He glanced down at the bags and lifted his eyebrows. “Shopping?” 

“Yeah. Just wanted to pick up some stuff,” Sousuke replied with a shrug. He pulled the wine bottle out and resisted a triumphant smirk when Makoto’s face lit up in pleasant surprise and Nanase’s expression soured. He set it rather primly in the corner. “Dinner ingredients, mostly.” 

“You’re making dinner, then?” 

“Yup.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m more than happy to make you something while you relax.” 

“Makoto, trust me, I want to.” He opened the fridge to put a couple necessities in. “Making birthday dinner is kinda my thing. And you’ve really done enough.” 

“Makoto’s not old enough to drink,” Nanase said stiffly.

“Sure he is,” Sousuke replied. He put a hand on Makoto’s head. “Look at how tall he is. Six feet in height equals twenty years in age.” 

Makoto laughed, and Nanase gave a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

“It’s fine, Haru,” Makoto said. “I’ll be twenty in November. And it’s not like I haven’t had alcohol before. Remember our class’s graduation party, at Mika’s house?” 

Nanase’s nose crinkled. “Yeah. You made out with the soccer captain all night. I had to drag you out after he started getting too handsy. We missed the street fireworks because of that.” 

“Handsy?” Sousuke echoed, not entirely sure if he was very amused or very angry. 

“Yeah. Stupid soccer captain put his hand down the front of Makoto’s pants while he chugged a beer. Bastard thought he was about to give him a handjob in front of everybody, or something.” 

Yup. Definitely angry. 

“But Haru took care of it,” Makoto burst, his face flushing. “And the soccer captain apologized later.” 

He wilted a little when neither Sousuke or Nanase looked the slightest bit reassured. 

“You know what? Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said, his voice rising an octave. He turned back to the bag and grabbed the nearest thing, which, unfortunately, was the blue box of extra large condoms. 

Nanase’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling, and Makoto yelped. He dropped the box as if it had burned him and turned away, covering his furiously blushing face with his hands. Sousuke was torn between laughing or barking a demand for Nanase to tell him more about this gropey, asshole soccer captain. 

“Well,” Nanase said, after a couple more moments of Makoto groaning with embarrassment into his palms. “I better go.” 

Makoto peeked through his fingers. “N-no, you don’t have to-” 

“I think I better.” 

“Haru-”

“I’m borrowing the documentaries and going.” Nanase plucked a couple of DVD cases from the dining room table and made a bee-line for the door. “Bye.” 

“Wait, Haru….” Makoto said, faltering. Nanase opened the door and stood by it for a moment, before looking at Sousuke and giving a nod. 

“Happy birthday, Yamazaki,” he said. Sousuke didn’t have a chance to utter a ‘thank you’ before Nanase jabbed a finger at him, cutting off any response. “And just so you know. I gave that track captain a black eye that night. I’ll do worse to you if you dare hurt him.” He turned his finger on Makoto. “Don’t get drunk. You’re a mess when you’re drunk.” 

He closed the door behind him before either of them could reply. 

\---000---

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. While Sousuke arranged and prepared everything for dinner, (paying more attention to details than was necessary, admittedly,) Makoto watched TV and entertained their three feline roommates. He fell asleep at one point in one of the black leather chairs, two cats squished in his lap and the smallest poised on the space next to his shoulder. He looked like a cat king. An adorable, drooling cat king, with his hair sticking up in all directions. 

Possibly one of Sousuke’s favorite things in existence was Makoto’s sleeping face. When Makoto was asleep, there wasn’t a trace of the usual stress or strain in his features. Especially over these past couple months he’d been nothing but tight smiles and blank stares, so seeing his face so relaxed was incredibly refreshing.

He looked so young when he slept. Sure, he was six feet tall and had enough muscle density to impress any self-respecting athlete, but he really did look like a kid when he was this relaxed. It made Sousuke want to pamper him a little. 

Makoto woke up just as Sousuke was finishing up the udon noodles. Steam rose from the kakejiru as he stirred, testing the noodles against the side of the bowl every moment or so to get the perfect texture. He picked a couple up with chopsticks and took a tentative bite. Nearly perfect. Just a little longer…

“Lemme try,” Makoto mumbled, and two strong arms lazily wrapped around Sousuke from behind. 

“Open,” Sousuke said. He picked a couple more noodles up and brought them to Makoto’s mouth. A soft laugh tickled his chest as Makoto craned forward to blindly bite at his chopsticks. His eyes shot open and he stepped back as he chewed, giving a very enthusiastic hum of approval. 

“Wow, that’s really good! What did you put in that?” 

“Nothing special,” Sousuke said with a shrug. He grabbed the nearest rags and braced them against the pot’s hot handles, before lifting it up onto the cool side of the stove. “Just dashi, mirin, some soy, butter… Stuff like that. I also let the scallions cook a little with it, to give it more flavor. It’s still a little bland for my taste, but I’m about to add the kamaboko, which should help. Do you want an egg with yours?” 

“Uh, sure.” 

“Great. I cooked a second one just in case.” He nodded to the table. “Go sit down. I’ll be right there.” 

“You don’t need help with dishes?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Okay.” Makoto hesitantly drifted away and sat down, resting his chin in his palm. He watched in silence as Sousuke put the last of dinner together, setting the pieces one by one in their spots. Sousuke licked a bit of kakejiru that had spilled from his fingers as he placed their cups down on the table. He leaned over to pick two sets of chopsticks, handed one to Makoto, and plopped down in the seat opposite him. 

“Voila,” he said, with a flourish of his own chopsticks. “Birthday dinner for two.” 

“It looks amazing,” Makoto gushed. “You’re such a good cook.” 

“Don't say that before you've actually tried it.”

“I already know, just by looking at it,” Makoto replied. He gathered a big clump of noodles between his chopsticks and hurriedly brought it to his mouth so it wouldn't drip on the table. As soon as the udon touched his lips, his eyes lit up. “I knew it.”

Sousuke felt the corners of his lips pull wide. “You like it?”

“Mmf-hmmf,” Makoto hummed enthusiastically around his mouthful. His chopsticks came determinedly back down on the bowl to stab the egg's yolk, and Sousuke laughed at his pleased expression when the bold yellow spilled and mixed with the broth.

“If I had my sister to help, it would've been a lot fancier,” he said, taking from his own bowl. He paused to chew. “We always made stuff like this for our birthdays. But better.”

“Better? That sounds like something beyond my comprehension.”

“Aw, shucks.”

Makoto laughed, lifting a hand to wipe his chin. “How long did this take? I must've been asleep a while...”

“No, not that long. I fussed more than I should've,” Sousuke said. A thought came to him, and he pushed his chair back. “Do you want some of that wine?”

“Yes, please.”

He stood and slipped back into the kitchen to grab the bottle. Shinoa thankfully had a cork screw in her mess of drawers. The cork came off with a satisfying pop, and Makoto offered a little clap and a whoop. He lifted his glass to let Sousuke fill it with an anticipating smile.

“Okay. This is a big moment, you know,” he said, once Sousuke's glass was filled, too. He shifted in his seat and managed a very serious expression. “Your first drink as a legal adult. Pretty big deal.”

“You're right,” Sousuke agreed. He brought his eyebrows together and nodded importantly. “A very big deal.”

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.”

“Okay. Raise your glass,” Makoto instructed. Sousuke obeyed, curling his lips in to keep a stony face. They clinked glasses, and Makoto nodded in approval. “Good. Now, your big moment is here. The first sip of your first drink as an adult. Go slow.”

Sousuke brought the glass to his lips at a snail's pace, taking a pause every centimeter or so to laugh as Makoto very enthusiastically hummed the opening to Star Wars. He hit the crescendo just as Sousuke tilted his head back to drink.

What a fucking nerd.

“How is it?” 

“Tastes like liquified shit.” 

Makoto laughed, and Sousuke’s toes curled pleasantly under the table. 

\---000---

After eating, they did presents. 

Makoto insisted his was opened last, so attention was turned on the badly-wrapped boxes that Makoto had hid on some high shelf in the closet. 

Rin sent a couple international action movies, (he knew Sousuke liked them and was usually happy to send them up once they came out,) and a shit-ton of Australian candy. To combat that, Gou sent a core training ball and a fancy new jump rope, (she’d always had a habit of spending way too much,) along with a card urging him to work on his thighs in particular. The present from Momo and Ai turned out to be just a blue gatorade bottle decked out in Christmas wrapping and a framed picture of Momo’s beetle. 

Sousuke relaxed a little when he opened that. At least it wasn’t the beetle itself. 

The Iwatobi cards were a sight to behold. There was one from each member of the swim club, which had grown considerably since their third year. Most of them were very colorful and bright to make up for the lack of words to offer. A vast majority were titled to ‘Makoto-senpai’s boyfriend,’ instead of ‘Yamazaki-san.’ 

“Okay, gimme yours,” Sousuke said once they’d laughed over the last card. He stuck his hands out and wriggled his fingers. “No more hiding.” 

Makoto’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He shakily reached into his pocket and pulled out a little silver box with a messy blue bow. It was placed delicately on the edge of the table, as if he was on the brink of changing his mind and pulling it back under to stuff in his pocket. 

Sousuke faked a gasp. “Makoto, are you proposing?” 

Makoto laughed, but it caught with nervousness. “Nah not yet. This is just, um… Okay. It’s really stupid.” 

“I doubt that.”

“No, really.” 

“Makoto, just gimme,” Sousuke said, holding his hands out more insistently. Makoto hesitated, but obediently slid the box across the surface of the table. Sousuke brought it close and popped it open. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or not. 

“Um,” he said, tilting his head in amused confusion. He picked the tiny, fake subway sandwich nestled inside up with delicate fingers. “A… tiny sandwich?”

“Kisumi picked it out,” Makoto burst, his cheeks flushing. He leaned over to take it from Sousuke and pulled part of the sandwich off, revealing a silver metal input. “It’s a flashdrive. That, uh, just happens to look like a sandwich.” 

“A flashdrive?” Sousuke echoed. He took it back when Makoto held it out. 

“Yeah. Okay, so basically I was shopping for you earlier, and everything that you would’ve liked was too expensive, so I asked Kisumi and Rin what I should get you, and they suggested this. It basically just has a bunch of pictures and playlists I put together on it, and Rin sent some videos from when you were younger, too. And there’s stuff from earlier this year, when we first met, and a ton of music I thought you’d like, and Kisumi even…” He took a second to catch his breath and cover his blushing face with a hand. “Kisumi even convinced me to record a cover of one of your favorite songs. Sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Sousuke asked. “This is great.” 

Makoto lowered his hand to rest below his nose. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah. Makoto, this is…” Sousuke laughed and shook his head, rubbing the flashdrive between his fingers. “This is perfect. This is beyond better than anything else you could’ve gotten me. Thank you.” 

“T-that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Makoto said. He rubbed the nape of his neck. “But… I’m glad you like it. It was a lot of fun to make.” He winced. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” 

“Not at all. How could I not like it? Makoto, it’s a sandwich of music and memories.” 

Makoto laughed, his shoulders relaxing. “Good.” 

“Thank you. Really. This is perfect.” 

“Of course, Sousuke.” 

“So, I’m not sure if my ears were playing tricks on me, but I’m pretty sure I heard you say you did a cover of one of my favorite songs,” Sousuke said. He eyed the flashdrive. “I’m very intrigued.” 

“U-uh, yeah, but you can listen to it later,” Makoto said, waving his hand dismissively. 

Sousuke pushed his chair back and stood. “I wanna listen to it now.” 

“Right now? Like, ‘right now,’ right now?” 

“Yeah. Where’s your laptop? We can plug it in while I’m thinking about it.” 

“Or we could not do that,” Makoto offered, his voice an octave higher. He stood shakily and stumbled after Sousuke, pulling on his sleeve. “Do it later, maybe? The movies Rin sent look pretty good…” 

“Nah. I wanna do this.” 

“Okay, I hear you, but how about you listen to it when I’m not around. So, you know. I don’t die of embarrassment.” 

“But I want to listen to it now.” 

“Does it have to be right this instant?” 

“Yup.” 

“How about this,” Makoto said, a tad too loud. He leaned forward and snatched the flashdrive from Sousuke’s hand, before backing up a safe distance. “How about we move on to your other birthday present?” 

“My other…?” Sousuke began. He frowned. “Makoto. Please tell me you didn’t get me another present. I told you, one is more than-” 

“I didn’t. But I just figured we could… do something else.” Makoto slipped the flashdrive into his breast pocket and moved closer. Really close. Close enough for Sousuke’s breath to catch. He lifted a hand to fiddle with the zipper of Sousuke’s jacket. “If you want.” 

Sousuke swallowed. “Something else, huh?” 

“Sure. It’s your birthday, after all.” The zipper squeaked as Makoto tugged it down slowly. The shy tilt of his eyebrows and the way he bit his fucking lip was much too innocent for its own good. “Wanna make the most of it?” 

Sousuke narrowed his eyes, despite every muscle in his body aching to move closer and bite that stupid smirk from his lips. “This is totally a diversion from the flashdrive, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Makoto grinned and moved closer, their noses brushing. He eyed Sousuke’s mouth. “Just shut up and kiss me?” 

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” 

Their lips met with a sudden, muffled clap of thunder. It was like kissing the rain itself, pressing and hard and all sorts of wet. Makoto melted into him, their bodies instinctively fitting against each other. Sousuke’s hands moved on their own accord - up the arch of Makoto’s spine, fingers dragging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Down, down to his hips to tug at the loops in his jeans. Over his ass, fingers splayed against his pockets. Makoto purred, the hand clasping Sousuke’s zipper coming down. He coaxed Sousuke’s mouth open and swiped his tongue over his bottom lip teasingly, smiling into their kiss. It was cheeky as fuck, but it still made Sousuke shiver with anticipation. 

“I think you’re my favorite present, yet,” he murmured, pulling back to catch his breath. He ran his hands up Makoto’s waist, easing his shirt up and skimming his fingers along the tan, muscled skin. “Definitely the prettiest present, yet.” 

Makoto’s smile widened. His arms looped around Sousuke’s neck and pulled their bodies closer, the buttons of their jeans clacking against each other. “Funny, I thought I was the one who was supposed to be flattering you, birthday boy.” 

“I don’t see why we both can’t,” Sousuke replied. He leaned down to press an open-mouthed kiss to Makoto’s warm throat. “Do I get to leave marks on my birthday present?” 

Makoto let out a shallow breath. He tilted his head back to give him space, his voice low and warm. “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

Holy fuck, was that hot. 

Sousuke slipped his hands up the back of Makoto’s shirt and pressed them harder against each other, his mouth working against the column of his throat. Makoto’s fingers curled in his hair, a soft moan causing his pulse to quiver under Sousuke’s lips. He rolled his hips against Sousuke’s, barely at first, but the pressure of their bodies against each other grew harder as Sousuke sucked red marks to life on his skin, from his collarbone to his jaw. 

When he pulled back, his pants now incredibly tight and his breathing labored, Makoto’s eyes were glassy and brilliant, like polished jade. The tan, freckled skin of his throat was not brushed with pink, as if cherry blossoms had been pressed into his pulse. He looked so fucking gorgeous that Sousuke’s knees almost faltered. 

“Sousuke,” he rasped, and the way his lips formed Sousuke’s name was a glossy, kiss-swollen masterpiece in and of itself. “Should we, um, grab the stuff you picked up earlier?” 

“Yes,” Sousuke said, but it sounded more like a croak than an actual response. He forced himself to step back to hurry back into the kitchen. “Yes, right. Be right back. Get naked.”

Makoto chuckled. He turned around to slip into the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. Sousuke just managed to catch a glimpse of that gorgeous back before he was forced to turn the corner into the kitchen. 

The lube and condom boxes were still on the counter, where he’d left them earlier. He paused for a second, conflicted over the two sizes of condoms, before grumbling a ‘fuck it,’ and snatching the larger size. He was big, and Makoto was big. It’d be fine. 

When he stumbled into the bedroom, Makoto was on the bed, shimmying out of his jeans. Sousuke slipped his jacket off of his shoulders and tugged his own pants down as he approached. He blindly set the condoms and lube on the bedside table and leaned in to meet Makoto with a sloppy kiss, soft moans poised at the back of both their throats and their tongues playing thickly. Makoto tugged him onto the bed, the mattress dipping under their weight. He wasted no time in pushing Sousuke back against the headrest and straddling his hips, his eyes impossibly dark. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. Sousuke wasn’t given the chance to try his luck at a clever response. Makoto cupped his face and kissed him hard and open, his thighs pressing against either side of Sousuke’s waist. Sousuke craned his head back to meet him with parted lips and a low moan. He grasped and clawed at Makoto’s hips, pulling him down as he grinded up against him, nearly gasping with relief at the hot friction. 

“Holy fuck,” he breathed into Makoto’s mouth, and Makoto murmured his name thickly in return. He held Sousuke’s face reverently as they moved against each other, his lips leaving raw, perfect burns on the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his cupid’s bow. He showered Sousuke’s face with searing kisses as his hips rolled with the pound of the rain, the slightest shifts forcing lightning through every nerve of Sousuke’s body. 

Sousuke wasn’t entirely sure when Makoto pulled away, but he definitely did, because suddenly his lips felt cold and he was drowning in an ocean of green. Not sweet, shining green, like Makoto’s eyes usually were. No. Rich, deep, lustful green, the kind that rivalled the glare of a wolf. The kind that made Sousuke think it was the most sinful color to ever exist. 

The hands on his face fell to grasp his shoulders as Makoto grinded harder against him, their cocks only separated by the thin fabric of their underwear. A series of gasps and whimpers were wrenched from Sousuke’s throat, tumbling one after the other in a muddled mess of desperation. He fumbled with Makoto’s boxer briefs through the haze of painful pleasure. Makoto leaned against him and shifted his hips up to help. His deft fingers fell to Sousuke’s, too, and somewhere between the whispered curses and fragments of names did they manage to fall back together, absolutely nothing separating them. 

“Makoto,” Sousuke whispered. He pressed their bodies together, dragging lines down Makoto’s back as they moved. His chest ached with a moan when Makoto’s hand found their cocks inbetween them and pumped. “Makoto, please. I’m going to come.” 

“No, wait.” It was more of a sleepy groan than a demand. The warm hand around him fell away, and Sousuke whimpered. 

“Makoto, please.” 

“Hold on.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Then hurry.” Makoto leaned over to the side, grabbed something, and pushed it into Sousuke’s palm. The lube bottle. Sousuke felt his eyebrows furrow and met his gaze. 

“You want me to…?” 

“Yes.” Makoto’s reply was low and sure. “Don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Sousuke burst. “I mean, yes, fuck yes. But are you sure? You’ve never...” 

“I am if you are. I trust you.” Makoto lifted his hips higher and shifted closer, his fingers tensed against Sousuke’s arms. “Please, just help me?” 

Sousuke nodded. He leaned forward, close enough for his lips to brush the flushed skin of Makoto’s shoulder, and reached back to soothe the elegant slope of his spine, movements heavy with the raw heat eating at his lower abdomen. He breathed into Makoto’s skin in an attempt to calm himself as he popped the bottle open. The lube was cold against the pads of his fingers. He curled them in an attempt to keep it from spilling too much on the sheets when he reached further to press against Makoto’s ass. Makoto shivered against him, his toned back flexing. 

Sousuke paused. “Ready?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Carefully, he let one finger slip through the tight ring of muscle. It went easily, slick with a good amount of lube, and he didn’t hesitate long before pushing it a bit further. Makoto let out a hollow sigh. 

“You okay?” 

“Mm-hm. Just feels…” He laughed breathlessly. “Just feels tight.” 

Sousuke smiled into his skin. “Anything like you expected?” 

“No. I thought it would hurt.” Makoto’s fhands flexed against his arms. “Well, we’re hardly finished, so… God, please be gentle with me.” 

“I will.” Sousuke curled his finger inside to find the prostate, his heartbeat quickening when Makoto let out a shudder of pleasure against him. 

“Whoa.” 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah. Just… didn’t expect that.” 

“Mind if I add another one?” 

“Please.” 

They steadily, (oh, so steadily,) worked their way up to three fingers. Makoto’s breath became more labored, his voice growing needier. He held Sousuke’s biceps hard enough for the tan skin to flush. His thighs flexed as he rolled back against Sousuke’s fingers, his cock flushed and heavy between his legs. Sousuke had softened slightly at the painful lack of friction, but it took only a couple pumps before slipping the condom on to get himself properly hard again. 

His hands settled on Makoto’s hips as soon as Makoto shifted to kneel on the mattress in front of him. Sousuke leaned forward to press open-mouthed kisses to his tensed abs, letting his tongue graze the sharp angles. Makoto moaned softly and threaded his fingers through his hair. He murmured Sousuke’s name as if it were a final prayer, before spreading his thighs and shifting down to press his ass against the head of Sousuke’s cock. 

Sousuke moaned and dropped his head against Makoto’s chest. His hands curved over Makoto’s ass, groping and pulling as Makoto slowly, shakily, took him in, inch by inch.

“Sousuke,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. His fingers tilted Sousuke’s chin up so their lips could meet, a hot explosion before Sousuke was pushed back to lay against the mattress, his skin burning cold where it made contact with the cool blankets. It took every fiber of his being not to grab Makoto’s waist and thrust up into him hard. His entire being shook with a need for sudden, quick heat. 

But the view definitely made up for the treacherously slow pace. Makoto’s full, kiss-swollen lips were parted with a silent moan, his eyes dark and soft. His hair fell in locks around his face, framing the heat struck across his cheekbones, and his toned torso, frosted with sweat, glowed silver from the mess of teeming, cloudy light outside their window. 

It was easily one of the most beautiful things Sousuke had ever seen. 

“You don’t have to-” he choked out, his chest rising and falling raggedly. “You don’t have to go all the way. Just a couple inches to-” 

“I want to,” Makoto interrupted. He let out a soft groan and sunk a little deeper down, ripping a gasp from Sousuke’s lungs. “I want all of you.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke whimpered. 

“You look…Oh, God.” Makoto shifted his hips lower, his abs flexing as he braced himself on Sousuke’s chest. He bit his lip and dropped further. A series of curses Sousuke didn’t even know Makoto was capable of caught in his throat. “Fuck, that’s so deep.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke echoed weakly. He groaned as Makoto began to move up and down, testing the strength of his thighs and the feeling of Sousuke’s cock inside of him. Makoto whispered and whined his name, his voice growing more desperate as he moved further up and down his length. 

“Ohhhh, God.” 

“Fuck, Sou-usuke. Fuucck. Holy fucking-” Makoto’s voice caught as Sousuke held his hips and thrusted up into him with a snarl, forcing a rhythm. His thighs stuttered. “Oh my FUCK.” 

Sousuke arched his spine and cried out, his hands and hips moving on their own accord. His cock snapped in and out of Makoto at a ruthless pace, too hard and too fast. He was supposed to be gentle, to be careful, but the sounds Makoto was making and the fire lapping at his skin made his muscles react sharply. He gasped out a dry sob. 

“‘M sorry, I gotta…” He whined and thrusted harder, vaguely aware of Makoto crying out a loud string of stinging curses. “‘M sorry. Ma-akoto, I have to-” 

“‘S okay,” Makoto burst. He rubbed Sousuke’s jaw with his thumb. The pained furrow of his eyebrows made Sousuke’s heart constrict. “It’s okay. Fuck, just use me.” 

“‘M sorry,” he gasped out, his voice thick with either a whimper or a snarl. He grasped Makoto’s hips hard and thrusted until their skin smacked. The curse that Makoto howled seemed to shake the room, only rivalled by the throaty cry that leapt from Sousuke’s own lips. His body shuddered through the orgasm like a taut bow being released. The world momentarily turned blue. 

When he opened his eyes, Makoto was panting above him, his gaze worn and blissful from his own orgasm. He pulled off of Sousuke and immediately collapsed at his side. They stayed like that for an eternity, before Makoto sighed and sat up a little to pull the condom off and knot it. 

“Sorry, I came on your stomach,” he panted. 

Sousuke didn’t reply. A knot had settled in his throat. He shifted closer and wrapped his arms around Makoto, dropping his head to nuzzle his face into his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into his skin. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Hm?” Makoto shakily returned the embrace. His chest purred under Sousuke’s with a laugh. “What are you sorry for?” 

“I was too rough. I hurt you.” 

“You...?” Makoto paused. He sighed fondly and stroked Sousuke’s hair. “It’s okay. It didn’t hurt that bad. I’m fine.” 

“It’s not supposed to hurt at all. It’s supposed to feel good.” He swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. You told me to be gentle, and I knew I had to be, but I couldn’t-” 

“Sousuke, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not.” 

“I promise it is.” Makoto shifted back to meet his eyes. He rubbed a thumb along his cheekbone. “Trust me, it’s not bad at all. And seeing you like this is definitely more painful than anything your dick did.” 

Sousuke shook his head. “I still hurt you.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“But I still-” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto interrupted gently. He tilted Sousuke’s chin up and kissed him, brushing a finger across his cheek, just below his slightly damp eyelashes. “Please don’t cry. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” Sousuke objected with a weak voice. He pulled Makoto closer. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.” 

Makoto took a breath, as if he were going to say something, but released it as a sigh. He wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck and smoothed a hand through his hair comfortingly. He kissed the space between Sousuke’s eyebrows, his lips warm and his breath soft. “It’s okay.” 

“Please stop saying that.” 

“But it’s true.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, maybe just for the sake of saying his name. Makoto fell silent. They listened to the rain for either a moment or an eternity, before Sousuke let himself relax into their embrace and whisper against Makoto’s collarbone. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I promise I won’t hurt you again.” 

Makoto chuckled. “Okay. I promise, too.” 

“You promise? Even when I’m being an ass? Because if I’m being an ass, by all means-” 

“Yes. Even when you’re being an ass,” Makoto laughed. He hugged Sousuke tighter. “Now sleep.” 

Sousuke closed his eyes and obeyed.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> still late and still long!! :') I'm sorry

“... even if the taste is bitter and acerbic now, baby someday, surely…”

Sousuke cracked an eye open at the sound of Makoto’s quiet, pretty voice. The white ceiling of Shinoa’s guest bedroom welcomed him into consciousness as he blinked sleep from his eyes. The fan hanging above the bed turned slowly, as if just waking up itself. The low hum of its moving blades joined Makoto’s voice in filling the room, quiet and rhythmic.  
It was a nice alternative to what Sousuke usually woke up to - the aggressive growl of the city outside his dorm window, Fujioka’s snores, a blaring alarm if Makoto wasn’t the one to wake him up, girls squealing out in the halls....

Yeah. This was definitely preferable. 

He took a deep, clean breath and turned his head in the direction of the familiar, soft voice. Makoto was laying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows as he scrolled his thumb up the screen of his phone. The song fell from his mumbling lips as he read, quiet and absent, probably an afterthought. Grey light from the window fell down the bare slope of his spine and turned the tips of his messy hair to silver. 

He must’ve felt Sousuke’s gaze, because he glanced up from his phone and the song he’d been singing dwindled. He smiled. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning,” Sousuke said. His own voice sounded so sharp and low, compared to the whispered words Makoto had filled the room with. He cleared his throat. “You been awake long?” 

“Nope. Just woke up.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Ten thirty. We slept in.” 

“Good,” Sousuke hummed in approval, his eyes falling shut again. He wriggled closer to Makoto’s warmth. “What’re you looking at?” 

“Just facebook,” Makoto replied, looking back at his phone. “Gou-chan keeps tagging me in pictures of animals and plants. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong, but she’s overwhelming my poor phone with notifications.” 

Sousuke pressed a kiss to his shoulder, his hand finding a home against the small of Makoto’s bare back. “What a menace.” 

“Right?” Makoto hummed a laugh. He didn’t look up as Sousuke peppered kisses over his skin, didn’t give any sign of tearing his attention away from his phone as Sousuke’s lips drifted to his throat. “I don’t know where she’s finding all these pictures, but there’s an impressive amount of them. Are there certain people she’s friends with who post nothing but animals and plants? Or does she post them herself?” He sighed and tapped his thumb absently against the screen. “I’m really not on facebook enough to understand it.” 

“Pay attention to me,” Sousuke murmured against his skin. He tilted his head to press kisses to his scruffy jaw. “We’re both naked in bed, on holiday. That doesn’t happen very often.” 

Makoto smiled teasingly down at his phone. “Eager, are you?” 

“C’mon,” Sousuke groaned. 

Makoto chuckled, clicked his phone off, and slid it onto the bedside table. He rolled onto his back with a soft thump against the sheets. Sousuke wasted no time in shifting over him to press their lips together, warm and soft at first, harder and wetter as Makoto’s smile slipped from the corners of his mouth. 

There was little that compared to the feeling of their bare bodies pressing against one another, one of their hearts always making up for the space between the other’s beats. There was little that compared to the way Makoto’s fingers tangled in his hair, or how Sousuke could feel ever flex and release of his abs when they were this close, or how good Makoto’s tongue felt pressing past his lips. There was little that compared to the exhilarated, almost child-like hope that twinged in Sousuke’s chest when Makoto pushed him back gently to switch their positions, hands falling against his skin and the mouth on his throat making him feel absolutely worshipped. 

Sousuke decided, through the haze of their sleepy kisses and quiet murmurs, that there was absolutely nothing that compared to Tachibana Makoto. 

Sousuke wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down, forcing their bodies to fit and slide together. Makoto purred against his lips. He twined their fingers and guided them over Sousuke’s head, their knuckles resting against the cool headboard. 

This felt so right. So wonderfully, deliciously right. And yet…

“Wait.” Sousuke turned his face away and slipped his hands out before Makoto’s hips could so much as stutter against his. 

Makoto immediately tensed. He pulled back, his eyes bright with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I still…” Sousuke began. He swallowed. “Last night didn’t… it didn’t go very well, did it?” 

The worry sharpening Makoto’s features eased. “Sousuke, it was fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

“I can’t help but worry,” Sousuke sighed. “You told me to be gentle. You said you were scared of it hurting, and I wanted to be careful with you, because this is the first time you’ve ever-” 

“Sousuke, please,” Makoto said, laughing nervously. He cupped Sousuke’s face in his hands and smiled reassuringly down at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I told you it was okay, didn’t I?” 

“I was too rough,” Sousuke insisted. 

“So was I.” 

“You were setting a pace.” 

“I was biting off more than I could chew,” Makoto corrected. He shrugged, his grin widening. “I got cocky. No pun intended.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a hopeless smile at that. “It was supposed to feel good.” 

“It did feel good,” Makoto said. His thumbs rubbed little circles along Sousuke’s cheekbones. “Just because it got a little rough at the end doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. Trust me, I enjoyed myself.” 

“But the end…” Sousuke averted his gaze. “That’s not how it should’ve gone. It was your first time.” 

“With a dick up my ass? Yes. But it’s not like I was a virgin before last night. It’s no big deal.” 

“It’s a big deal to me,” he sighed. He met Makoto’s gaze, which had widened a little with surprise at his words. “I’ve never had something like this, before. I’ve never had somebody to really take care of. I’ve… I’ve never had someone who I’m in love with. Everything with you is new for me. I don’t want to screw any of it up, or move forward without you.” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto breathed. His lips quirked up in a tentative smile. “It’s just sex. We have all the time in the world to get it right.” 

“I know, and I get that, but last night was ‘it,’ you know? We don’t get another chance at having a first time. We can fuck every day for the rest of our lives, but it still won’t have the same meaning.” 

Makoto’s eyebrows lifted. “Fuck every day for the rest of our lives?” 

“You know what I mean,” Sousuke grumbled, feeling a flush in his ears. “Look, I’m just not too enthusiastic about the fact that I kinda blew it for you.” 

“For me? Sousuke, it’s not just about me. It’s about you, too.” Makoto laughed. “As corny as it sounds, we’re in this together. And if we screwed it up the first time, which we totally didn’t, then at least it was a joint effort, right?” He smoothed Sousuke’s bangs back absently, his gaze growing soft and his face flushing. “Either way, you’re the one that I had sex with last night. And that’s good enough for me. Because I love you.” 

It really was moments like this that Sousuke could truly understand how short a time it took for Makoto to turn his brain to absolute mush. 

“Well, when you put it like that…” he croaked, and Makoto laughed. 

“Hey, now that we’ve got our first time out of the way, there’s always our second time to look forward to,” he pointed out breezily, his fingers playing with a strand of Sousuke’s hair. “And we still have this apartment to ourselves for another couple days. Might be nice, to try again…” 

Sousuke swallowed thickly, suddenly very conscious of how their bodies overlapped under the covers. “Right now?” 

Makoto smiled down at him, his ears pink. “If you want.” 

“Um. Yes. Yeah, that’s…” Sousuke began, but paused. “Actually, maybe not right this instant. I’m kinda hungry. And I kinda need a shower.” 

Makoto nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“I’m also eighty percent sure I have really bad morning breath right now, and I won’t do that to you.” 

“How chivalrous,” he mused, smiling fondly. He rolled off of Sousuke and arched his spine in a stretch. “Not going to lie. A shower sounds really, really amazing right now. I smell like sex. And that dumb cologne I practically bathed in yesterday, while you were at the store.” 

“You were wearing cologne?” 

“You didn’t notice?” Makoto exclaimed. He let out a huff of frustration and hit his head back against the pillow. “Dammit. I wanted to impress you. That bottle was really expensive…” 

“Aw.” Sousuke sat up with a grunt, rolling his shoulders back. “That’s okay. I think I prefer the smell of sex on you to too much cologne, anyways.” 

Makoto flushed. “Yeah?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“Huh. That… is a sentence I never thought I’d hear.” 

Sousuke laughed. “Wanna shower first?” 

“You can, if you want. I can start on breakfast.” 

Sousuke pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Mmmm, that sounds nice. But consider this: we take a shower together and make breakfast together. And we don’t put any clothes on the entire time.” 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think you might be an actual genius.” 

Sousuke’s lips pulled back in an uncontrollable smile, and Makoto beamed. He sat up, the white sheets pulling arounds his bare hips, and reached for his face to pull him in for a couple quick kisses. Sousuke closed his eyes and leaned into them, a pleased chill going down his spine. He whined when Makoto moved away to slip his legs over the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t stop. Get your lips back over here.” 

“Just come to the shower with me. I’m tired of being sticky.” 

Sousuke opened his mouth to groan a reply, but a determined knock at the door cut him short. They both froze, sharing an alarmed look. 

“Who the fuck,” Sousuke wondered out loud. 

“It’s probably Haru. Or one of the neighbors.” 

“If it’s Nanase, I’m going to kill him,” he grumbled, forcing himself to stand. He bent over to grab his briefs and jeans, struggling to quickly slip them on. “It’s too damn early for interruptions.” 

“Please don’t kill him,” Makoto said with a sigh. “That’d be very inconvenient.” 

“I make no promises. Stay here.” He hurried to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth and rub it over his chest and shoulders, grabbing blindly for the closest cologne or perfume to spray his throat and arms with. The person at the door knocked more insistently as he ran wet fingers hurriedly through his hair. “Hold on! I’ll be there in a sec!” 

Deciding not to waste more time on a shirt, he jogged to the front room and wrenched the door open. “Nanase, I swear to -” 

“Oh. Hey, kiddo,” a familiar, voice cut him off, and whatever threat he was going to make died in the back of his throat. 

Yamazaki Kano smiled up at him, her cherry-red lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. Her hair, a curly mess of gold and silver, was pulled back in a casual ponytail, instead of the usual tight bun she kept it in. The pressed white shirt and office pants she’d always worn were replaced by a tanktop, cardigan and sweats, and the softer tones made her sharp features look more relaxed than usual. She was shorter than Sousuke remembered, barely coming up to his collarbone. 

“Mom,” Sousuke managed. 

“Surprise!” she said, her confident smile widening. “Guess who’s here for your twentieth birthday?” 

“Um.” 

“It’s me, in case you were wondering.” She laughed her strong laugh and swept forward to pull him into a hug. He returned it awkwardly, blinking at the door across the hall in hopes of wrapping his mind around his mother’s sudden arrival. 

“Damn, kid. When’d you get so tall?” Kano asked, pulled back to study him. “You’re still buff, too. Good for you. What do they feed you at that school? Tubs of protein shakes? You know, back when I was in college, people were supposed to gain weight when they started, not lose it-” 

“Mom,” Sousuke cut her off weakly. “W-what are you-” 

“Doing here? I told you. I’m here for your twentieth birthday.” She hoisted up a bag that’d been hanging casually from one hand and shook it. “And look. I got you a present.” 

“Um, okay, thanks,” he said hesitantly. “But, wait. How-” 

“Did I find you? Well, I went to your dorms yesterday, but your roommate told me that you were housesitting in this building for a friend, so I came over here. At least, I think it was your roommate. He said he knew you. Short guy, buzzed head, tattoos? Said his name was Tanaka-kun?” 

“Yeah, I know Tanaka.” Sousuke nodded numbly. “But how did-” 

“I know the apartment number? Well, I came in and asked the lovely lady at the front desk if she happened to know where my son was staying, and she was nice enough to direct me up here. I may or may not have wandered the floor above this one and briefly gotten lost, but I figured it out. So now I’m here. For you, kiddo.” She held her arms out. “Ta-da?”

Sousuke just blinked down at her, not entirely sure how to respond.

She dropped her arms and pulled the unimpressed look that he himself had perfected at a very young age. “Wow. Brimming with excitement to see your mother, I see. I feel so loved by my darling son.” 

“I’m just… surprised,” Sousuke replied, shaking his head. “It’s not like I hear from you often.” 

“It’s not like I hear from you, either,” she said. “I just figured that I’d come see you. This is a… this is the end of an era, isn’t it? I mean, twenty years old. You’re an adult, now. Legally, that is.” 

“Yeah.” 

Ah. So that’s why she was here. Kano had never been good with communicating with her children. Sousuke knew that she had confidence in their self-sufficiency, and she expected them to want to be closed off from their family, like she usually wanted to be. She was more comfortable with mothering from a distance - checking up on their grades, keeping an eye on their respective mental and physical issues, reaching out to professors and neighbors to keep an eye on them, et cetera. Sousuke and his sister’s independent natures had only encouraged the distance between them. Their situation at the moment was easy for everybody, natural for the kind of people they were. 

But even so, the feeling of obligation would push Kano towards them, every once and awhile. She was their mother, after all. Certain situations called for certain company.  
Kano must’ve deemed his twentieth birthday as one of those situations. 

“You gonna invite me in?” she asked after a brief, awkward pause. Sousuke nodded and stepped aside, and she slipped past him. She gave a low whistle as she surveyed the apartment. “This is where you’re house sitting? Not bad. Your friend’s parents must be loaded.” 

“It’s his grandma’s,” he said, closing the door behind her. “You and dad could probably afford a place like this. I wouldn’t mind getting one of these for my birthday…” 

She barked out a laugh. “That’s cute. No, dorms are good for building character. Get a job, then we’ll talk apartments.” 

“What’s the point of having wealthy parents if they don’t give you free shit,” Sousuke sighed. 

“Hey. Watch your damn mouth.” 

Sousuke gave a mighty roll of his eyes in reply, which made Kano chuckle. She placed the bag on the table and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“So. I know I’m late for your birthday, but whaddya say you and I go out for some dinner? Maybe do a bit of shopping? You know, some mother-son time.” 

“Mother-son time?” Sousuke snorted. 

“Why not?” Kano replied with a shrug. “You’re an adult, now. That’s worth celebrating. Keiko and I did, when she turned twenty. I was the first one to buy her a drink. At least, that’s what I like to tell myself...” 

“You know, call me crazy, but when other people turn twenty, I don’t think they celebrate by hanging out with their moms.”

“Hey, now. Be nice to your dear old mother,” she said, scowling. “Is the prospect of hanging out with me really so awful?” 

“I don’t know, we’ve never really done it before,” Sousuke said, sharper than he intended. Kano didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, which somehow made him feel guiltier than if she’d reacted more visibly. “Sorry. I’m just… still kinda in shock. I never see you. This is weird.” 

Kano didn’t immediately reply. Her strong eyebrows tilted. “Huh. Since when do you apologize for having a sass mouth?” 

Sousuke stiffened. “I dunno.” 

“Maybe you really are a grown up,” she mused. Sousuke gave her a look, which made her laugh. The lines tracing the space between her nose and lips deepened with a smile. Her hair, shining with grey and copper - the colors of flimsy metal - bounced with her chuckle. “Good thing, too. One of us in this family probably should be.” 

“Funny,” Sousuke sighed. 

“So, how about it? Let’s hit the town. See the sights. Tear it up. Feel the burn. Shop till we drop.” 

“Good Lord, Mom.” 

“C’mon, let me buy you your first beer as a legal adult,” she pressed. “You’re old now, so we can be cool with each other. This is our chance to start this new era of your life off with good vibes. Would you rather hang around here, alone, for the rest of the day?” 

“Um,” Sousuke said, the realization that he wasn’t actually alone suddenly hitting him. 

Fuck. 

He was talking to his mother, and his boyfriend was in the next room, a mere stroll away. Probably still naked. Waiting for him to give some sort of signal as to who was in their temporary apartment. 

Fuuuck. 

There was no point in hiding it. Sousuke hadn’t even begun thinking about introducing Makoto to his parents, but he couldn’t exactly go along with Kano’s invitation or turn her down without confusing both her and Makoto. It was definitely not the ideal circumstance, but he couldn’t think of a way to get around it. 

“Okay, so. About that,” he began. 

“About what?” 

“About me, being here alone.” 

“Oh. What about it?” 

“I’m not. Here alone, that is.” 

“What?” Kano said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

Before Sousuke could reply, Makoto’s hesitant voice came from the hallway behind them. “Sousuke? Who’s…?” 

He stopped in the doorway leading into the front room, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he caught sight of Kano. He’d put on his glasses a pair of sweats, thankfully, but they hung dangerously low on his hips, and the way his bare chest looked in the amber glow of the ceiling light was anything but innocent. He froze when Kano turned to look at him, and for a moment, they blinked at each other with matching expressions of alarm. 

Sousuke kind of wanted to crawl down into a hole to die. 

“Hello,” Kano said after a tense second, her turquoise gaze lingering a tad too long on Makoto’s chest. She glanced up at his face and lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Who are you?” 

“Uh,” Makoto eked out, color flooding his face. 

“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Tachibana Makoto,” Sousuke said in one hurried breath. 

“Your boyfriend?” 

“Your mom?” Makoto spluttered. 

“Yeah,” Sousuke said. He exhaled, long and shaky, and put a hand on Kano’s shoulder. “Makoto, this is my mom, Yamazaki Kano.” 

“Your mom,” Makoto said again, his voice weak with either awe or horror. He looked between the two of them with a perplexed expression. Sousuke didn’t really blame him. He and Kano shared little features with each other. Where he was tall and broad, with dark, short hair, Kano was short and thin, her hair a curling cloud of dusty gold. Their eyes were similar in color and they had the same sharpness to their features, but otherwise, they could’ve been complete strangers. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Kano said, her voice disbelieving. “Since when?” 

“Uh, since April,” Sousuke said. Makoto made a weak sound in the back of his throat.

“April? That long?” Kano mumbled. She looked Makoto up and down again, and he shakily pulled his sweats higher up under her gaze. “Wait, like. This April?” 

Sousuke winced. “Yeah.” 

“That’s seven months. No wait, six. That’s a pretty serious relationship for a college student, isn’t it?.” She looked between the two of them, letting out a surprised laugh. “How did… What. How did this happen?” 

“Um. I dunno,” Sousuke mumbled. He looked to Makoto for help, but Makoto seemed to have gone into a state of plank-like stiffness, his expression frozen. “It just… did.”

“You never said anything about a relationship,” Kano said, more to herself than to Sousuke. “Why didn’t you tell me? I called not long ago, and you didn’t mention a boy.” 

“You didn’t ask,” Sousuke offered weakly. He forced himself to straighten his spine, instead of curl in on himself with embarrassment. “Look, I had no intention of introducing you this soon, but that ship has kinda already sailed, so I’d appreciate it if you were a little nice.” 

“Sorry, I’m just… surprised.” She shook her head, as if to clear it. When her curls stilled, a smile was pulling at the corners of her lips. “I mean, wow! You have a boyfriend!” 

Sousuke felt himself relax. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And he looks like that,” she said, stressing the last word, almost gushing it. That seemed to snap Makoto out of his stupor, color rising to his cheeks. She giggled and moved forward to shake hands with him. “Yamazaki Kano. I’m sorry we’re meeting like this, but I have to say, I’m happy we actually are.” 

“Tachibana Makoto,” he returned. He offered a tentative smile of his own. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am.” 

“You’ll have to excuse my immediate reaction. I was surprised, to say the least.” 

“Me too,” Makoto said. “If I’d known you were coming, I definitely would’ve made myself look a little more presentable.” 

She waved him off breezily. “Oh, you’re fine. It’s my own fault for not calling beforehand.” 

“Yeah, why didn’t you call beforehand?” Sousuke grumbled. Kano ignored him. 

“Tachibana, did you say? That name sounds familiar…” She pursed her lips in thought for a moment, before snapping her fingers with the realization. “Right. You’re that trainer boy, aren’t you? The one that was helping Sousuke out with his exercise schedule at the beginning of the year.” 

Makoto nodded, his tight, nervous smile relaxing. “That’s me.” 

“Thank you so much for that. Wouldn’t want him slacking off too much, or screwing his shoulder up all over again. He’s proven himself to be prone to that.” 

“Hey,” Sousuke said with a scowl. 

“Oh, not at all,” Makoto replied. “I just put together some routines, he did the majority of it. And it really wasn’t any trouble for me. Sousuke is.... Well, he’s really…. he’s, um. I love your work.” 

Kano laughed, hearty and familiar. “Why, thank you. I raised him myself.” 

“Barely,” Sousuke growled under his breath. 

“Oh, shush. Don’t listen to him, Tachibana-kun. He just gets moody when he’s not the center of attention.” 

“I do not,” he snapped. 

“But you probably know that already, huh?” she continued, ignoring him. “You must, if he’s managed to keep you around for this long.” 

“I’ve gotten an inkling, yeah,” Makoto said, flashing him a teasing smile before looking back down at her. “Please, feel free to call me Makoto. ‘Tachibana-kun’ is a name I hear enough from my professors.” 

She nodded in solemn understanding. “Ah, yes. Trust me, I hear ‘Mrs Yamazaki’ left and right when the high-heels come on. Call me Kano, dear.” 

“Kano,” Makoto echoed. He smiled. “That’s a great name.” 

“You like that? You should see my number.” 

“Mom,” Sousuke groaned. 

“Kidding, kidding,” Kano said, tucking a curl behind her ear innocently. “I’m sorry, kiddo, but I’d hate myself if I didn’t take advantage of appropriate references.” 

“That was anything but appropriate.” 

“I thought it was funny,” Makoto said, despite the embarrassed color in his face. 

“Please don’t encourage her.” 

“Stop being a little scrooge and lighten up,” Kano insisted, nudging Sousuke’s hip with her own. She looked between them with a sharp smile, clapping them both on the shoulder. “This is great! Forget mother-son time, I want to get to know the mystery boyfriend you’ve been hiding for so long. We should take Makoto-kun out, don’t you think? Treat him to all the good places Tokyo has to offer, and all. I can grill him about details over lunch.” 

Makoto nodded, the smile he wore growing tight and brief panic flashing across his eyes. Sousuke was only just able to catch it, and he didn’t need to wonder long why he’d reacted that way. Taking them out to dinner and ‘grilling them’ had been the original plan his family had made too, the day he had a panic attack in public and shouted at his parents for the first time in his life. 

Kano wasn’t like the Tachibanas in the slightest. She was distant and modern-minded, and had known about Sousuke’s sexuality for a long time. There was no way dinner with her was going to be like that afternoon with the Tachibanas, but Sousuke understood why replaying the original plans they’d made then would make Makoto anxious. That day had changed his relationship with his parents for good. He probably wasn’t too fond of the idea of possibly doing it over again, with Kano this time. 

“Why don’t we stay here,” Sousuke said. He met Makoto’s eyes and tried for a reassuring smile. “We’ve got leftovers from last night, and I think Shinoa-san has enough around here for you and I to bake a cake, Mom. We can go out together later.” 

Kano looked up at him with a dangerous tilt to her eyebrow. “Stay here? But I made plans-” 

“It looks like rain,” Makoto burst. He flushed pink when Kano turned to him instead. “I mean, the weather isn’t the greatest, right? Maybe it would be better to go out on a nicer day. If t-that’s alright with you, Kano-san.” 

Kano inspected him in confusion for a moment, before giving a little nod. “Yeah, alright. I don’t know why you boys would rather stay here then let me pay for your meals, but hey, whatever you think is best.” She smirked. “As long as we get to know each other, Makoto-kun.” 

Makoto smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Of course, Kano-san.” 

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” Sousuke suggested. He pulled a face and nodded down to Kano. “I’ll entertain the old lady until you get out.” 

“Hey!” 

Makoto laughed. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Great.” Before he could turn away, Sousuke grabbed his wrist to pull him in for a peck on the cheek. Makoto leaned into it, but the dart of panic in his eyes when he glanced at Kano made Sousuke think he was more worried about Kano’s reaction than he let on. 

The two of them watched him slip into the other room, before Kano moved closer to talk in a lowered tone to Sousuke. “Okay, so are you gonna tell me what just happened?” 

“Look, I’m just going to give you the short version, okay?” Sousuke said. There was no point in denying Makoto’s nervousness about any of this. “Makoto’s had a tough couple of months. He came out to his parents and they basically made him feel like shit because of it. He’s been beating himself up about his parents ‘hating him,’ and a few weeks ago they came to Tokyo and they all pretty much lost their shit on each other in front of his little siblings. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t think he’s really talking to them anymore, but it sorta ended on okay terms. He’s probably just intimidated by you after all of that, so please be nice.” 

“Oh.” Kano’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, that’s horrible.” 

“Yeah. Do me a favor and keep that in mind, alright? I don’t think he’s ever dealt with something like this before, and a good experience with you will probably ease his anxiety up a lot.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Kano nodded, her eyebrows crinkling and her lips pursing in an expression Sousuke was somewhat familiar with - the Concerned Mom Face. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

“Good. Don’t embarrass me too much, either.” 

She snorted. “I’m obligated to do that, I’m afraid.” 

“Just don’t go out of your way to do it?” 

“And miss your expressions? Nice try.” 

“I could throw you out the window, you know,” Sousuke said. “It wouldn’t be hard. You’re small. And with Makoto’s help it’d be especially easy.” 

“What a terrible thing to say to your mother,” Kano huffed, crossing her arms. For a moment she just pouted up at him, before a thought seemed to ease her stance. Her features softened. “You like him a lot.” 

It wasn’t a question. Sousuke was a little glad it wasn’t. That meant she didn’t have a doubt. “Yeah. He’s great.” 

“Do you love him?” 

“Yes.” 

She grinned. “No hesitation.” 

“Not even a little bit,” Sousuke agreed. 

“I’m glad,” Kano said. She lifted a hand to rub his arm. “That… that makes me really happy. I like knowing that you’re not alone.”

He nodded. “I always thought I liked being alone, but I think I like being around him more.” 

Her grin widened. “That’s wonderful, kiddo. Stuff like that… That’s the sort of thing I always wanted, growing up. I’m glad that you can have it.” 

The words ‘arranged marriage’ flashed briefly through Sousuke’s mind, in big, blocky letters. Keiko had told him the truth behind their parents’ relationship when he was ten, and it had never ceased to aggravate him. The Yamzakis’ marriage had been one of convenience for two rival businesses, insisted upon by Sousuke’s grandparents. It wasn’t a terribly uncommon practice for Tokyo’s most successful, and Miyamoto Kano and Yamazaki Natsuo, two young, ambitious people with their sights set on big growth for their respective companies, had agreed to it without a fuss. They were married as soon as they’d both turned twenty, and two years later, Keiko was born, followed shortly by Sousuke. 

Sousuke sometimes wondered if either of his parents had ever been in love before. 

“Have you two had breakfast?” Kano suddenly asked, moving away to slip into the kitchen. 

“No, we were just about to.” 

“I can throw something together. It’ll be more of a brunch, since it’s hella late, but I’m willing.” She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled her cheshire grin. “You could probably follow him into the shower while I cooked…” 

“Mom,” Sousuke groaned, and she laughed. 

\----000----

When Makoto came back out, (thankfully with a shirt, this time,) Sousuke and Kano had set out three plates of eggs on toast and three steaming mugs of tea. They were also in the middle of arguing about basketball teams, but Kano thankfully let the topic fall and grinned invitingly up at him. 

“Come sit, Makoto-kun,” she said. She nodded to the chair at Sousuke’s side. “I hope you like your eggs sunny-side up.” 

“I do,” Makoto said, smiling shyly. He sat, and Sousuke instinctively rested his arm on the back of his chair. “Thank you so much for making this, Kano-san. It looks amazing.”

Kano beamed. “Why, thank you.” 

Sousuke scoffed. “I did most of it.” 

“That is a dirty lie.” She shook her head and shared a glance with Makoto. “Everything’s a competition with this one, I swear.” 

Sousuke scowled at her, and Makoto laughed. He leaned back against Sousuke’s arm and brought his tea up to his lips, smiling teasingly against the rim and effectively forcing Sousuke’s frown to soften. When they looked back at her, Kano’s expression was much too pleased for its own good. 

“So, Makoto-kun. Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?” 

“Iwatobi, originally,” he replied, a slight flush to his face. “Born and raised.” 

“Mm, that’s nice. We loved Iwatobi. It’s a great place to grow up.” 

Makoto nodded. “It really is. I miss it a lot, to be honest with you.” 

“Me, too,” Kano agreed. “I imagine Sousuke does as well.” Sousuke shrugged indifferently, and she snorted. “Oh, please. Going back to Iwatobi is all you talked about when you started high school. The whining was atrocious.” 

“No comment.” 

Kano rolled her eyes and took a big bite of toast. “Anyways. I take it you’re a swimmer too, Makoto-kun?” 

“Yeah. That’s how Sousuke and I met, actually. We were on different swim teams, back in high school.” 

“He was a captain,” Sousuke said, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice. “Pretty much put his school’s club together by himself.” 

“T-that’s an exaggeration,” Makoto laughed weakly. “I had a lot of help.” 

“The captain of a rival team, huh?” Kano mused, wiping nonexistent crumbs from her smirking lips. “How scandalous, Sousuke.” 

“Hardly. We talked, like, twice before meeting again in college,” Sousuke said. “The only times we ever really saw each other were at joint practices or events Rin dragged us both to. But we made up for it after figuring out we attend the same school.” 

“Poor Sousuke was pretty much stuck with me, since our dorms are so close together,” Makoto added with a good-natured smile. “No more running, huh? You had no choice but to deal with me.” 

“It would’ve caught up to me eventually,” Sousuke said with an exaggerated sigh, which made Makoto laugh and earned himself a nudge. “It wasn’t so bad, though. You’re kinda attractive, I guess. In certain lighting. If I squint. I mostly just keep you around so you can help me with Japanese Lit, these days.” 

“You’re hilarious.” 

Kano chuckled. “What stroke do you swim?” 

“Backstroke, but I sometimes do freestyle, too,” Makoto said. He paused to reach for his toast and take a quick bite. “My coach has also been insisting I pick up butterfly, but I think I don’t have the endurance for all that muscle exertion.” 

Kano brightened. “You’re on the team, then?” 

“Mm-hm! I’m a walk-on, though, so I don’t really have a secured spot,” Makoto admitted. He took another enthusiastic bite of toast. “This is so good, Kano-san.” 

“Why don’t you have a secured spot?” Sousuke demanded, a little horrified. “It’s almost been a year, and the coach still hasn’t given you a space on the team?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Makoto said, hurriedly wiping a bit of runny yolk from his chin. “Other guys had secured spots before they’d even started, because of scholarships and prodigy timings. I was a walk-on, so I really have to earn my keep if I want to compete with the rest of the team.”

Sousuke frowned. “That’s bullshit. You’ve earned your keep time and time again. Your times are just as good as anyone else’s.” 

Makoto looked down at his plate, his face flushing. “I don’t know about that. The coach is just being practical, really. It’s fine, I’m happy just being a part of the group.” 

“Have you considered applying for a scholarship yourself?” Kano suggested. “You could always look into one for next year. It’s not uncommon for walk-ons to be offered full scholarships, if they leave a lasting impression on their coaches.” 

Makoto blinked at her. “I… I hadn’t even considered that.” 

“Full scholarship,” Sousuke echoed. “Wait. They’d really give him one?” 

Kano shrugged. “Who knows? Depends on how good he is.” 

Sousuke and Makoto exchanged a glance. “Huh.” 

“A full scholarship,” Makoto said, as if testing the words in his mouth. He laughed breathlessly. “I don’t know, that’s big. I’m not sure if I’m worth that.” 

“You could also be offered something smaller, like a payment on books, or something,” Kano said. “As long as the school wants you on their team, they’ll be interested in making you deals that will keep you around.” 

Makoto nodded slowly. “That’s...interesting.” 

Kano shrugged again and reached for her tea. “You just definitely ask your coach about it. Familiarize yourself with where you stand in his book. Who knows, maybe they’re already planning to offer you something.” 

“They’d be stupid not to,” Sousuke said honestly. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto mumbled, his face flushing and his thumbs fidgeting against the sides of his mug. 

“Hey, I mean it.” Sousuke dropped his hand a little to rub the nape of Makoto’s neck. “Just look at how much you’ve improved, this year alone. You’ve got just as much dedication and skill as anyone already on that team. And I bet you anything Nanase and Rin would agree with me.”

“W-well, thank you.” Makoto sunk a little further in his chair and smiled feebly. “Can we please talk about something else? I’m not sure if I can handle any more flattery.” 

“Sure,” Kano chirped. She leaned forward and offered a sweet smile. “Tell me about the swimsuits.” 

Makoto turned a darker shade of pink and took a woeful bite of toast as Sousuke laughed. 

Their conversation moved back to more innocent things as Kano continued her questioning. She asked surprisingly normal, friendly inquiries, which honestly surprised Sousuke a little, considering he’d definitely inherited her bluntness and confidence. Her questions ranged from things like, ‘are you a dog person or a cat person?’ (“I really like both! But I have an especially soft spot for cats, I admit,”) to ‘where do you see yourself in the next five years?’ (“Hopefully working as a coach for children, back in Iwatobi. But who knows? I’ve always been interested in public service, too,”). 

They talked for a good couple of hours, and Sousuke was content in listening to their exchanges in mostly silence. Kano had always been especially good at hiding her true opinions of others behind a confident smile and a teasing glint in her eyes, but he could tell she genuinely liked Makoto a lot. 

Sousuke wasn’t surprised that she did in the slightest, but he had to say, it was a great relief to have confirmation. He could see it in the way she laughed, easy and open, or in the way she quickly picked up calling him ‘Makkun’ instead of ‘Makoto-kun.’ She kept looking at his hair as if she wanted to tousle it, and her eyes went as soft as they could go when Makoto delved into slightly touchier topics. 

The two continued talking after Sousuke stood up to work in the open kitchen, pulling out ingredients for a little cake. He was glad he got up when he did, because it didn’t take long for the pair at the table to start talking about him. 

“If only I had pictures of him with me,” she huffed in frustration. “He was such a cute, tubby baby. I can still remember him toddling around the house on his fat baby legs and whining for me to change his diaper. I remember this one time, I was sitting at the table reading, he came running at me screaming and blubbering for me to change him, and when I turned away to grab the wipes, he grabbed the cookie I’d been eating right off my plate and took off like a maniacal little bullet.” 

“Oh my God,” Makoto burst, covering his mouth to stifle his laugh. 

“I found him hiding under the coffee table later, gumming on it and crying because it was too crumbly for his little baby mouth,” Kano said, tutting. “What a stinker. You know, the first time he got in a pool, he peed. I’m telling you. The moment his little tuckus was submerged, he just let it all go. Not two seconds into the water and he was already breaking the rules.” 

“Mom,” Sousuke protested weakly, his face flushing. 

“And you know what he did? He punched his little fists out and screamed, ‘Mom, I’m peeing!’ Everybody in the pool shot out and we were asked to leave.” 

“Mom, please,” Sousuke groaned, but his feeble sounds of distress were drowned out by Makoto’s loud burst of laughter. He scowled down at the pan he’d just poured the cake batter in and shoved it rather unceremoniously in the preheated oven. 

“Oh wait, I have a picture of him in my wallet,” Kano said, brightening. She slipped it out of her pocket and hurried to Makoto’s side, who was wiping tears from his eyes and attempting to catch his breath. “There he is.” 

“Awww,” Makoto gushed. He took the wallet carefully from her when she held it out. “Sousuke, you were so cute.” 

“My chubby lil munchkin,” Kano agreed. “I love this picture. Look at his dumb face.” 

“He looks so sweet! And what a cute little bottom.” 

“Wait, what?” Sousuke’s head snapped up. Horror filled his chest. “Mom, are you showing him naked pictures of me?” 

“Relax, it’s just you as a baby. It’s not like it matters.” 

“Is this Keiko-san?” Makoto asked, before Sousuke could send back a stinging retort. 

“Mm-hm. I think she’s… five, in this picture? Maybe four.” 

Makoto laughed softly. “She looks just like you, Sousuke!” 

Sousuke’s nose wrinkled. “Ew, don’t say that.” 

“She does! Her hair is curly, but it’s the same color. And you two have similar eyes.” He shook his head fondly. “You even have the same eyebrows.” 

“Blegh.” 

“Oh, shush,” Kano said, rolling her eyes. “How old are you? Twelve?” 

“Not like you would know the difference,” Sousuke grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” He tugged the oven mitts off and came over to look over Makoto’s shoulder. Sure enough, there was his bare baby ass, out for the world to see. He and Keiko were sitting on a beach towel, the pair of them looking back at the camera with similar expressions of slight disgust. 

“You’re very handsome,” Makoto hummed, his voice light and sweet. 

“Yeah, well. Tell me something I don’t know.” 

Makoto chuckled, and Sousuke tilted his chin back to press a chaste, quick kiss to his lips. 

When he looked up, Kano was smiling fondly, her eyes suddenly tired. 

“I should probably be going,” she said. She took the wallet with delicate fingers when Makoto handed it back. “There’s some stuff I should get done tonight, and I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“You don’t have to,” Makoto protested. 

“No, no, I should. You kids have entertained me plenty today.” She straightened and moved around the table to tug Sousuke down for a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll leave my present for you, and you can have that cake to yourselves.” 

Sousuke hesitated, before awkwardly pulling her in for a quick embrace. “You really don’t have to.” 

“But I will. There’s plenty to deal with.” She patted his chest and reached to shake hands with Makoto. “It was lovely meeting you, dear. Hopefully we’ll be able to get together soon and continue this conversation.” 

Makoto smiled. “It was nice meeting you too, Kano-san. Do you want us to walk you down?” 

“No, I’m fine,” Kano said, waving him off. She paused, her smile slipping in the slightest as she studied his face with gentle, almost curious eyes. Makoto returned her gaze evenly. His features going slack, as if opening himself to let Kano inspect him. They stared at each other for a couple of beats, and Sousuke wondered if they were somehow communicating with their minds, reading each other in a way he couldn’t understand. Her shaky exhale broke the silence. 

“Makkun, could I maybe hug you?” 

Makoto blinked in surprise. “Sure.” 

He stood, and Kano stepped close enough to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a proper embrace. He stiffened at her touch at first, before his eyes darkened with some sort of unhappy realization, and he crumbled a little in her arms.

She stroked his hair comfortingly as they held each other. Makoto buried his face in her curls.  
Sousuke’s heart ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kano is literally me tbh
> 
> a) bad at communication  
> b) sarcastic asshole  
> c) has a soft spot for Tachibana Makoto  
> d) smol


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (/*3*)/ ~<3
> 
> WARNING: Avengers spoilers, (I guess...?), violence, and slight gore. Also a LOT of swearing. So ye. Be warned.

“Wow. I call to say ‘happy birthday,’ like a good best friend, and this how you repay me. By ignoring me. You truly are the sunshine of my life, aren’t you?” 

“Hey, I’m busy,” Sousuke said, biting back a smirk at the whine in Rin’s voice. He put his pencil down briefly to adjust the phone’s spot between his shoulder and ear. “It’s your own fault for calling me at a bad time, Rin.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” 

“As my best friend, I expect you to have my full schedule at all times.” 

“Asshole,” Rin grumbled. Sousuke didn’t bother holding back a chuckle at the lack of conviction in his voice. He sounded tired, tonight. Probably worn from practice, or one of the many monstrous parties Sousuke knew he entertained himself with on the holidays. “Did you get my presents?” 

“Mm-hm. Makoto’s already eaten, like, half of the candy.” 

“Yeah, I figured that’d be the case when I sent them. Don’t let him eat the shark gummies, though. Those are especially for you. They’re the ones I told you about in one of our letters, back when we were kids.” 

“What makes you think I would’ve remembered that?” Sousuke said, flipping the page of his textbook a little too aggressively. The lamp on the desk wobbled. “Unlike some people involved in this call, I don’t have a freakish memory.” 

“I would’ve told you, obviously,” Rin replied, and Sousuke could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “I’m calling, aren’t I? And don’t act like you don’t have those letters still. I’ve seen them in your whale shark pillowcase.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mm-hm. Well, if it’s any consolation, I still have your letters, too. So you’re not a total loser.” 

“I’m telling you, I don’t have any letters,” Sousuke said. He dropped his voice into a serious tone. “And I certainly don’t have a whale shark pillowcase.” 

“Oh, really? I take it you don’t have a giant pig plushy back home, either.” 

“Nope.” 

“Alright, pal. If that’s what helps you sleep at night,” Rin said, his voice sharpening a little with a familiar laugh. “You know, you’re going to have to tell me about all the stuff Makoto hides, too. You can be a spy for me. He probably has a collection of beanie babies he kisses goodnight. Or maybe a family of kittens that lives under his bed.” 

“I haven’t seen anything like that, but I’ll be sure to keep you updated.” 

“There’s gotta be something. If YOU’VE got cutesy stuff, I’d bet anything on Tachibana Makoto having at least one plushy from when he was a kid, or comfort blankie, or whatever. The guy’s too sentimental to have anything otherwise.” 

“Hm.” Sousuke brought the cold hot chocolate Makoto had left with him up to his lips. He took a thoughtful sip. “Um… He’s got a little clownfish keychain that he fiddles with when he’s nervous. And an orca tooth necklace that he wears when he’s worried about a presentation, or something. But no, nothing else that I can confirm.” 

“Dammit.” There was a muffled flump on the other end of the call, and Sousuke suspected Rin had flopped dramatically onto his bed, like he always had back in their dorms. “You’ll have to keep me updated on that. There has to be something.” 

Sousuke grunted in agreement. He tapped the eraser of his pencil against his chin as he pulled a sheet of graphs closer. The question had asked for an example of an industrialized Asian country with the most success in international relationships over the past decade, hadn’t it? From the numbers offered, Indonesia was probably his best bet…

“Sousuke,” Rin said, huffing. “You’re doing it again.” 

Sousuke started. The phone nearly slipped into his lap. “Hm? Sorry?” 

“You’re ignoring me.” 

“Oh. I told you, I’m working on something.” 

“Well, stop working on something and talk to me. I don’t want to go to sleep yet, and there’s nothing better to do.” 

“Why don’t you get on the internet, like a normal person?” Sousuke suggested, letting a hint of annoyance drip into his voice. He scribbled a couple notes in his notebook to remind him to check back on it. “The internet is great for wasting time. Look at facebook. Shop online. Watch porn. The possibilities are endless, my friend.” 

“You’d really rather do homework then talk to me?” 

“No, but I need to get this done. I’ve put it off long enough.” 

“What is it?” 

“Intercultural communication.” Sousuke groaned. “It sucks ass.” 

Rin laughed. “You deserve it, for ignoring me so much. This is called karma, Sousuke.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sousuke grumbled, reaching for his hot chocolate again. “Fine. If you wanna talk, then talk. I’ll listen with half my brain. Well, I don’t know. Maybe a quarter.” 

“Hilarious,” Rin said. He sighed, but it wasn’t the normal, ‘I’m-exasperated-and-ready-to-complain’ sigh. It sounded more like a, ‘I’m-mentally-preparing-myself’ sigh. Uh oh. “So, I met someone.” 

That made Sousuke pause. He lowered his mug and pushed back from Shinoa’s desk a little, resting his pencil inbetween the pages of his textbook. “Really?” 

Rin snorted. “No need to sound so surprised.” 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Sousuke said. He took the phone properly in his hand and twisted the chair to face the window’s blinds. “That’s great, Rin.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Rin agreed, but he sounded more tired than anything. Probably just a long day. Hopefully. “He’s really amazing. I like him a lot.” 

“That’s great,” Sousuke echoed himself. “What’s he like?” 

“He’s… cool. Very focused, funny, smart, you know. All that. He’s a swimmer, too. Crazy hot.” 

“Is he from Australia?” 

“No, South Korea. He moved here last year to do the same thing I’m doing.” 

“Cool,” Sousuke said, with lack of anything better to say. “How long have you been dating?” 

“Um, well. We’re not… exactly? We just kind of…” Rin paused, as if contemplating on how to put it delicately, before he gave a sigh of defeat. “We fuck.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” He laughed, his voice higher than usual. “That’s basically the summary of our relationship, at the moment. We fuck.” 

“Okay,” Sousuke said. He nodded thoughtfully. “Well, cool. Is he any good?” 

Rin laughed again. “Oh, man. You have no idea.” 

“Good,” Sousuke said. Because, again, what was he supposed to say to that? “I mean, yeah. Good for you. That’s always… nice.” He grimaced and cleared his throat. “Okay. So, wait. I’m confused.” 

“What about?” 

“About the whole ‘I really like him,’ part. Followed by the ‘we fuck,’ part.” 

“Okay?” 

“What’s up with that.” 

“I don’t understand the question, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke rolled his eyes. “I’m asking why you’re only fucking this guy, if he’s really so great.” 

“Oh,” Rin mumbled. “Uh, yeah. That’s…. kinda the issue, I guess....?”

“There’s an issue?” 

“Well, no…” 

“Rin.” 

“Okay. Yes, there’s an issue.” 

“Okay. So, you’re basically telling me that you’ve got feelings for this guy, but you’re currently stuck at fuckbuddy station.” 

“Not exactly…” 

“Rin, you’ve gotta help me a little,” Sousuke said, laughing humorlessly. “What are you telling me?” 

“Well-” 

“I’m back,” Makoto’s voice called from the front room, followed by the loud click of the door. Rin must’ve heard it too, because he took the opportunity to fall silent. 

“Hey,” Sousuke called back. “I’m in Shinoa’s office.” 

There was a flump from what he suspected was Makoto’s swim bag hitting the living room floor. “Still studying?” 

“Yeah. Talking to Rin, too.” He lowered his voice and brought his mouth back to the speaker. “Sorry, just Makoto. What were you saying?” 

Rin sighed. “It’s nothing. We can talk about it later. I’m tired.” 

“Rin-” 

“Later, Sousuke. I promise, I’ll tell you all about it Just focus on your work, or go enjoy your boyfriend, or watch one of the movies I sent you on Kisumi’s giant TV, because all of them are fucking amazing, okay?” His voice sounded strained. Not with anger, or sadness, but almost… resent. Envy? Something bitter, something he was obviously trying to mask with a light tone. The realization forced Sousuke’s mouth to turn down in a concerned frown. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Okay,” Sousuke said. “But we will talk about it.” 

“I promised, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, well. You can be unpredictable.” 

Rin chuckled. “A real charmer, aren’t you? No, don’t worry. I’ll give you all the juicy details. Tell Makoto hi for me.” 

“Alright. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

The call ended, and Sousuke let the hand holding his phone drop into his lap with a sigh. 

He’d learned from a young age that Matsuoka Rin was many things, but a creature of simplicity was not one of them. There was always something - something to push against until he burst through, something that pushed back at him until his heart gave out. Even if there was nothing standing in his way, he had a tendency to rip the floorboards up and build a wall to climb over, just for the sake of the challenge. He’d functioned so long under pressure that Sousuke suspected he didn’t know how to go about without it, so he’d added weights to his life, and wasn’t sure how to stop. 

His love life was probably no different.

Whatever Rin was going through, it only confirmed what Sousuke had known for a long time. He and Rin were very similar, but if Sousuke had one thing he didn’t, it was an appreciation for simplicity. He couldn’t speak without knowing the full story, but after years of supporting Rin, comforting him, even being the source of trouble himself, he could make a safe guess that this latest struggle could be resolved a lot easier if Rin just blatantly faced it, instead of avoiding it and letting his anger and hurt fester. 

Because if Rin was good at anything, it was letting his feelings fester until they blew. 

“Sousuke, you alright?” Makoto said, and Sousuke jolted. He turned away from the window to see him standing at the office’s doorway, his bangs dripping and a confused smile on his face. “You look a little lost.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed and shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. “Just… worried about Rin.” 

Makoto came over to sit on the floor in front of him, folding his legs like a kid waiting to be told a story. “Why?” 

“I think he’s a little heartsick. I mean, that’s not new, or anything, but now especially.” 

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I think so, too.” 

Sousuke lifted his eyebrows down at him. “Oh?” 

“He emailed me last week,” Makoto admitted. “I didn’t tell you, because it’s kinda a touchy subject, but he’s been asking me some questions, lately.” 

“What sort of questions?” 

“Like….” Makoto fidgeted. “I don’t know, I probably shouldn’t tell you.” 

Sousuke scoffed. “Well, now you have to tell me.” 

“I’m not going to give you details, but I’ll hint if you promise to keep it quiet.” 

“You really think I’d go yammering about it?” 

“Fair enough,” Makoto said, smiling fondly. “It’s nothing crazy, or particularly interesting. He just had some questions about… well, sexuality.” 

“Sexuality?” Sousuke echoed. “Why? He’s gay.” 

“Well, yeah. There’s no issue with that. He’s just curious about some stuff in that….” He paused to make a little sweeping gesture. “General area. Like, how you identify, and all.” 

“I don’t get it.” 

“I’d really rather not elaborate,” Makoto said, setting his shoulders the way he did when his mind was made up. “That’s his business, and I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it when he feels comfortable.” 

“Fine,” Sousuke huffed. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees, and blew at a strand of Makoto’s hair that was sticking up. “I can be done studying, if you want to do something.” 

“Do something?” Makoto lifted an eyebrow. “Like watch a movie?” 

“Well, when I say ‘do something,’ I kinda meant ‘do me,’ but sure.” 

Makoto laughed. “Very slick, Sousuke.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he drawled, and Makoto gave a mighty roll of his eyes. “Seriously, though. Do you want to? Do me, that is. Because if you just wanna watch a movie, I’m done with that.” 

“Well, if you’re offering…” Makoto trailed off with a playful note. He ran his hands up Sousuke’s thighs, rubbing his legs through his jeans. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.” 

“That’s probably good, to be honest. With all this stress I'm carrying around, I doubt I would’ve been able to make it through a movie tonight without at least giving you a handjob.” 

Laughing, Makoto pulled him down for a kiss by the collar of his shirt. A damp strand of his hair brushed against Sousuke’s nose as their lips moved, cold enough to make him shiver. He brushed it back absently and let his thumb graze the angle of Makoto’s eyebrow. His lips tasted like rain - fresh, clean, grey. He tasted like cool wind, up until the point he guided Sousuke’s mouth open and left and swiped his searing tongue over Sousuke’s bottom lip, forcing a groan from his throat. 

“You kiss good,” he grumbled, pulling back. He touched his own tongue to his lip, desire settling in his lower abdomen in the form of growing heat. 

Makoto beamed up at him. “Thanks. I pick most of it up from you.” 

Sousuke felt his eyebrows lift. “Oh, really?” 

“Yeah. It’s funny. I actually learn a lot from how you kiss me.” He shrugged. “It’s the same as everything else in life. Kiss how you want to be kissed, right?” 

“That is weirdly philosophical and I don’t appreciate it at the moment,” Sousuke said, which made Makoto snort. He was pulled back down for another kiss and gave a pleased grunt of surprise when Makoto’s tongue immediately slid past his lips. He felt himself melt, the tension in his muscles unravelling as Makoto led the rise and fall of their mouths with the glide of their tongues. He breathed out a sigh when Makoto tilted his head to suck at his lip, forcing a darker pink to bloom along the soft skin. 

“I have a request,” he managed, as soon as Makoto pulled away in the slightest. 

“Okay.” 

“Mind if I top again?” 

Makoto didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Oh.” Sousuke’s eyebrows crinkled. “Wait. Just… just like that?” 

“Um, yes?” Makoto smiled in confusion. “Were you expecting an argument?” 

“Well, no. I guess not,” Sousuke said, a little perplexed with his own reaction. He shook his head. “I guess I just…. I don’t know. Expected you to want to have a turn topping, this time.” 

Makoto tilted his head. “Are we taking turns?” 

“No? I don’t know. Are we?” 

“I wasn’t anticipating a schedule, but…” Makoto trailed off, interrupting himself with a laugh. “If you want to top tonight, I really don’t mind. Either way is good for me.” 

“You don’t have a preference?” 

“Not tonight, I don’t.” His expression softened. “If this is about making something up to me-” 

“It’s not,” Sousuke insisted, maybe a little more forceful than necessary. He winced. “Well. Fine. Maybe a little…” 

Makoto patted his cheek fondly. “You’re cute. Wanna move to the bedroom?” 

“Uh, sure,” Sousuke said. He cleared his throat as Makoto took his hand and led him out of the office, down the hall, to their little bedroom, before slowing front of the bed. He dropped Sousuke’s hand to peel back the thick covers and turned to plop down on the mattress. The corners of his lips tilted up in a smirk as he pulled Sousuke closer by his belt loops. 

“You know, for someone who wants to fuck me, you don’t seem very enthusiastic,” he mused, and Sousuke let out a burst of laughter at the curse word. 

“Sorry, just a little dazed, I guess.” 

“Would you rather watch a movie?” 

“No, no. No, let’s do this.” He bent to kiss the smile away from Makoto’s lips, his hands settling naturally against his neck. Makoto hummed contently as he massaged the columns of his throat. Warm fingers slipped up the front of his shirt and urged it up, and Sousuke pulled it off by the back of his collar. 

He breathed a satisfied sigh into Makoto’s lips as those fingers snaked up his torso to rub his collarbone, thumbs briefly flicking over his nipples and making him shudder. His own hands fumbled with his jeans, a stutter in his fingers as Makoto teased the sensitive skin of his throat and sternum. Makoto inhaled his moan with slick, parted lips, the pressure of his hands growing harder as their bodies fell closer together. 

“Do you want me to ride you again?” he asked, when Sousuke paused to pull his jeans and briefs down and step out of them. The rasp in his voice sent delighted heat up his spine.

“No. I want to…” The words caught in his throat as Makoto’s sure hands pulled him closer, his mouth pressing wet kisses to his chest. He swallowed a moan and focused all the attention he could on finishing the sentence. “I want to see you under me.” 

“Fuck,” Makoto practically whined into his skin, holding his hips tighter. He dropped his head take Sousuke’s cock in his mouth, and Sousuke nearly choked on his own moan, his vision flushing pink. Makoto’s hair felt much too light under his fingers as he grasped at it, heat pulsing with the frantic beat of his heart at every flicker of Makoto’s tongue along his length. 

One of the hardest things he’d probably ever had to do was push Makoto away before he could pull him all the way into his mouth. 

“Makoto, I’d love for you to continue, but I’m honestly going to come right now if you keep going,” he said in one breath. Makoto’s expression of confusion was replaced with pleasant surprise, his lips pulling back in a smile that was much too innocent for what that mouth had been doing moments before. 

“Sorry.” 

“No you’re not,” Sousuke said, and Makoto had the audacity to actually giggle. 

A nineteen year-old, six foot, ripped guy, who’d just had a cock in his mouth. Giggling. 

Sousuke doubted anyone besides Tachibana Makoto would be able to pull that off so gracefully. 

“Why the fuck do you still have all of your clothes on,” he grumbled, deciding it was probably best to focus instead on getting Makoto out of his jeans. 

Makoto’s smile widened. His hands fell to his belt to help Sousuke tug it off. “I was a little preoccupied with getting you naked, actually.” 

“Smartass.” 

Makoto laughed against his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck as Sousuke pulled his jeans down, tugging them back until his spine was against the mattress and Sousuke was poised above him. The details of their movements blurred together as Makoto led their kiss with a determined tongue, as his warm, bare thighs shivered under Sousuke’s hands, as his legs spread to allow Sousuke’s body to press against his. The soft laugh that had vibrated between their mouths morphed into desperate, thick moans, and Sousuke grasped and rolled against him, his bleary mind going to the little bottle of lube and the packet of condoms on the other bedside table. 

“Oh, fucckk,” Makoto drawled out between kisses, pushing his hips back up against Sousuke. A whine pressed through Sousuke’s chest at the wonderful friction. He held Makoto’s waist hard and let his mouth fall to his neck, a little more than pleased with himself to feel Makoto’s throat shiver with gasps and groans under his lips. 

“Shirt,” Makoto murmured. “Sousuke, take my….” 

His words twisted into a needy snarl as Sousuke rolled their hips together especially hard, but it was enough for Sousuke to drag his attention to the bothersome, button-up shirt that strained over Makoto’s chest. He pushed it up, hands sliding over Makoto’s ribs and pectorals, and Makoto tugged at the hem. 

The shirt came to a sharp halt at Makoto’s armpits, and refused to budge further. The push of their bodies slowed as Makoto wriggled desperately, the flannel fabric covering his face and his arms poised awkwardly over his head. 

“Um.” 

Sousuke sat up, scowling. “What the fuck.” 

“Wait.” Makoto writhed and tugged at the hem, puffing with the effort, before his arms flopped back dramatically. “Well, then. Sousuke?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I’m stuck.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a snort. “No kidding, Sherlock.” 

He could imagine Makoto’s frown behind the front of the shirt. “Very funny. Help me?” 

“How did you even manage this?” Sousuke said, yanking at the sleeves and hem. 

“Hey, you were the one who tried to pull a button-up shirt over my head. It’s not meant to-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sousuke interrupted with a laugh. He adjusted his grip and pulled, but the shirt didn’t move up past his collarbone. He let his hands drop with a huff. “It’s not moving.” 

“Sousuke,” Makoto whined. 

“Could you try unbuttoning it from the inside?” 

“With what? My mouth?” 

“I don’t know.... Maybe?” 

“There’s no way I can do that.” Makoto groaned. He flapped his arms against the sheets. “C’mon, free me from my flannel prison! I believe in you.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a puff of laughter. He pinched the bridge of his nose and attempted to hold it back, but just looking at Makoto’s situation made him laugh more. 

“Stop laughing and help me!” 

“Okay, okay,” Sousuke said between chuckles. He tugged the shirt back down, wriggling it over Makoto’s collarbone, and when Makoto’s irritated glare peeked out from behind the hem, he burst out laughing, dropping his head to rest against Makoto’s chest. 

Something about a miffed, naked boyfriend getting a shirt stuck over his head was just endlessly amusing. 

“You’re the worst,” Makoto grumbled, kneeing him in the side. He managed to get the shirt down himself through Sousuke’s laughing fits, and glowered down at the buttons as he undid them, which just made Sousuke laugh more. “Honestly, it’s not even that funny.” 

“If you could’ve seen yourself,” Sousuke insisted, shaking his head and rubbing the tears from his eyes. “You looked like a muppet.” 

Makoto scowled. “Rude.” 

“It’s true.” 

“Why are you so mean to me, Sousuke?” 

“I’m just a very mean person,” Sousuke replied seriously, and Makoto scoffed, his frown disappearing. “No, really. Ask anyone. I’m very, very mean.” 

“A real bully,” Makoto agreed. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him back down. “So, anyways. If you’re sure you’re done laughing at me, I’d like to continue what we had going before.” 

“You mean before you got your face stuck in a shirt?” 

Makoto thwacked his head. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll go watch a movie.” 

“Aw, c’mon. I’m kidding.” 

\---000---

The next evening, the rain cleared and Nanase invited himself over just in time to tag along on a walk to the park. 

Sousuke had been irritated enough as it was, what with all the school work he had yet to deal with, and Nanase’s presence did little in improving his mood. 

The majority of the walk was spent wandering down the paths that they often jogged, Nanase walking a bit ahead with his hands in his pockets and his chin tilted back to watch the rustle of the autumn leaves. The three of them strolled quietly, Makoto and Sousuke’s shoulders brushing as they shared Sousuke’s earbuds. Every so often Makoto would comment on a song or chuckle when a particularly embarrassing one came on, but otherwise they paroused the park in silence. 

It was nice. Even though Nanase kept stopping suddenly and forcing Sousuke to stumble, even though he kept twisting to say something to Makoto as if Sousuke wasn’t even there, even though he wouldn’t stop wandering off and forcing Makoto to pause their music and fucking call him back. 

Honestly, it was like dealing with a boyfriend’s protective little sibling. 

“Makoto, my hands are cold,” Nanase said, stopping abruptly and making Sousuke stub the toe of his sneaker against a crack in the sidewalk. 

“Share my pocket,” Makoto offered. He wriggled his hand in the pocket on his left side, the side that he wasn’t sharing with Sousuke. “Like when we were kids, remember?” 

Nanase nodded. He didn’t go over to Makoto’s left side, though. Nope. Because that would’ve been to difficult. No, he decided to squish himself inbetween Sousuke and Makoto and shove both of his hands in both of their occupied pockets. Sousuke bit back a grunt of alarm at how cold his fingers felt. 

“Oi. Get out,” he growled. He twisted his hand in his pocket to wrestle Nanase’s out, but Nanase curled his fingers into a fist and didn’t move. 

“Makoto said I could share a pocket,” he said simply. 

“Not mine, he didn’t. Get out.” 

“Your hands are warmer.” 

“Wow, thanks. It’s too bad I don’t give a fuck.” 

“Careful, Yamazaki. Makoto will get mad.” 

“No, he won’t. I haven’t done anything.” 

“Haru,” Makoto said with a sigh, cutting Sousuke off. “If he doesn’t want your hand in his pocket, then don’t put your hand in his pocket, please. You’ve teased him enough today.”

Nanase pulled his cold fingers back without so much as giving a grunt of acknowledgement. 

The sky was dark by the time anyone said anything again. To nobody’s surprise, it was Makoto who broke the silence, his face lighting up as they happened upon a little cafe set up by the park’s playground. He insisted they get drinks before they headed back home, and ordered two hot chocolates - one for Nanase, and one for he and Sousuke to share, (he knew Sousuke never finished them,). 

They talked and sipped as they wandered down the path they’d come from, music from street performers filling the space between their words. 

“Argue all you want, Makoto,” Sousuke said, once they’d landed on the topic of one of the international movies Rin had sent them. “Captain America is reckless and only concerned about the people with immediate relations to him.” 

“He was trying to protect his friend,” Makoto insisted, taking a huffy sip of their drink. “I understand the logic behind the treaty, but has the UN ever been reliable in situations not involving an industrial power? Don’t make me bring up Rwanda.” 

“If the Avengers have no control, they’re no better than criminals themselves. Whatever they do, they’re always going to have people resent them. At least with the UN’s supervision they can say they’re fighting with the approval of the world.” 

“If they agreed to the treaty, they would’ve forfeited their freedom to choose when to act!” 

“If that means more lives saved, then so be it.” 

“You have way too much trust in the UN, Sousuke.” 

“You have way too much trust in the Avengers. I mean, did you see the last movie?” 

“Yes! They saved everyone they could. I’d like to see somebody else do as much.” 

“Stark literally created the problem, though.” 

“You guys do realize it’s all fake, right?” Nanase said, lifting his cup to his lips. “None of it’s real.” 

“Stark’s mistakes were nobody’s but his own,” Makoto replied, ignoring him. “If the Avengers had been under UN supervision then, it still couldn’t have been helped. It was a private project, unrelated to the other members of the team. Ultron is a poor example and you know it.” 

“Whatever. I’m not arguing with you about this anymore,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. “Look, can we just agree on three most important things. One,” he began to count on his fingers, “the romance between Captain America and that blonde chick was totally unnecessary. Two, Black Panther had more character development in one movie than any of the others had in any of them. And three, Thor is the hottest one. No contest.” 

Makoto nodded thoughtfully. “I agree about the first two, but honestly? Black Widow is way hotter.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” 

“No. Have you seen Black Widow?” 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Nanase said, his tone impatient. “But c’mon. The guy with the star shield.” 

Makoto and Sousuke exchanged a glance over his head. 

“That’s… actually a decent compromise,” Makoto said. 

Sousuke shrugged. “I’ll accept it. Even if I don’t agree with him about anything.” 

“Don’t you even start-” 

“Makoto.” Nanase’s voice was soft and urgent, and Makoto’s protest immediately died on his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“Look.” Nanase pointed towards a cluster of pine trees, their trunks barely lit by one of the park street lamps. Sousuke narrowed his eyes in confusion. He was just about to turn back to Nanase to snap something when he caught sight of a bundle of dark figures struggling further under the cover of the pine needles. It was near impossible to make out, but it didn’t take long to conclude that the dark figures were definitely dragging something - or someone - away from the marked path. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto said in a low voice, confirming that he’d seen it too. 

“Who is that?” Nanase whispered. “What are they doing?” 

Sousuke set his jaw. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it can’t be good. Stay here.” 

“I’m coming with you,” Makoto said. His voice was strained, taut with either fear or determination. Probably a mixture of both.

“No. Stay here with Nanase. I’ll be right back, I swear.” 

“I’m not letting you go alone, Sousuke,” Makoto insisted. He rolled his shoulders back and walked towards the trees, not waiting for a reply. “C’mon.” 

“I’m coming, too,” Nanase said. 

Sousuke gave him a look, turning on his heel to follow Makoto. “Don’t.” 

Nanase’s gaze sharpened dangerously. “Yamazaki, I-”

“You’re going to stay here and call the park rangers. Makoto and I will take care of it.” 

He didn’t bother standing around to wait for a response. He jogged after Makoto and squeezed his arm comfortingly as they slipped away from the street lamp’s glow, between the rain-slick trees. Makoto’s hand found the back of his jacket, but he stayed at Sousuke’s side, his alert, green eyes practically glowing in the dark. They paused at the sound of urgent voices further up ahead, and shared a glance. 

The barely audible, muffled scream was what forced them forward again. 

Makoto’s hand gripped the back of his jacket tighter. 

“-Moving, you fucking bitch,” a deep voice snarled as they drew closer to the source of the sounds. Sousuke forced Makoto into a crouch behind the wide trunk of a tree and leaned over to peer at what was happening in the little clearing, up ahead. 

Fury immediately shot through him, sharp and burning. 

Two guys loomed over a pretty girl with back hair and glasses. One of them had his meaty hand over her mouth, gripping her cheeks hard and forcing her head against the trunk of a pine tree. She clawed at his arm, digging her fingernails into his pale skin and kicking her legs out to try and strike his leg. Her shoe could barely graze his thigh, on a good occasion. The other guy was rifling through a little black bag that must’ve been her purse, littering the forest floor with lipstick, tampons, and crinkled receipts. 

“You think you’re some fucking queen, don’t you?” the guy holding her face snarled, forcing her head harder against the tree. “You think you’re better than everybody else, don’t you? Huh? Nobody gets to fuck the fucking queen, right? The fucking queen’s too good for anyone, huh?” 

She writhed, her fingernails clawing so hard at his arm that they drew blood. He didn’t so much as flinch. Her head was bashed against the trunk again, and it was honestly kind of impressive that she remained conscious. 

The guy holding her reared his free fist back, his knuckles turning white in the darkness. “You’re a bag of shit, you fucking little-” 

“Hey,” Sousuke spat, loud enough that the trees seemed to ring. The single word was almost painful in my mouth, as if it had been wrenched from somewhere deep in his gut. He shot to his feet and stalked towards them, his legs and arms moving on their own accord as he grabbed the guy holding her by the back of the shirt and heaved him away. His chest quaked with fury as he forced him to turn his way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” 

The guy blinked up at him, stupefied. His broad jaw went slack. “Who the fuck are-” 

“Shit,” his shorter friend hissed, dropping the purse. He took a shaky step back as Makoto moved out from behind their hiding spot too, his tall frame impossibly dark. “Shit, man, it’s the cops.” 

The cops, huh? What a nice thought. 

“Shit, we gotta go,” the shorter one yelped. He twisted to scramble away, but Sousuke lunged for him and managed to snag the back of jeans and pull him back. He slipped and fell with a painful crunch, and Sousuke couldn’t help but wince. 

“Stay down,” he snapped, and the kid cowered, covering his face with his arm. 

“Who the fuck are- No.” The taller one writhed under Sousuke’s grip, but Sousuke held his shirt harder, forcing him to stay still. He sneered up at him. “Like hell you’re the cops. Let go of me, you-” 

“You’re under arrest,” Sousuke snapped, and holy shit, did it feel good to say that. He shook the taller one, (or TTO, he decided,) with a sharp wrench of his arm. “You have the right to remain fucking silent.” 

“Get off me,” TTO said, his voice venomous. He pushed and grabbed at Sousuke’s arm, and Sousuke was beyond grateful that Makoto had forced him to the gym so many times. “Get the hell off me, I’m going to fuckin-” 

“Are you alright?” Makoto said over his snarls, moving towards the girl, who had slumped down at the base of the tree, her eyes wide and her glasses eskew. He crouched down beside her, silent until she dragged her gaze off of Sousuke to him. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” 

She shook her head hurriedly, adjusting her glasses with quivering fingers. Red marks were already beginning to bloom along her jaw, where TTO had gripped her face. “I-I’m okay.” 

“Do you feel faint?” 

“No.” 

Makoto nodded, relieved. “Okay. Good. Do you think you can stand?” 

“U-hm, I-” 

“You guys got this all wrong,” TTO said, his voice shaking with anger. He jabbed a finger at her, and she flinched. “She’s not- She isn’t right. She doesn’t-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Sousuke snapped. He let go of TTO’s shirt, just long enough to pull his head under his arm. He shrieked and tried to pull away, but Sousuke just tightened the lock. He twisted to check that the other one was still there, nodding in approval to himself to see the kid still on the ground, his eyes wide and his twisted wrist held tight to his chest. 

“Can you stand?” Makoto repeated to the girl. He got to his feet and held his hand out to help her up, but she didn’t move from her spot, eyeing him with a new wariness. 

“Who are you?” 

“My name’s Makoto.”

She glanced up at Sousuke, and her eyebrows crinkled. “And who’s-?” 

“That’s Sousuke.” He hesitated. “My boyfriend.” 

Sousuke lifted a stiff hand in greeting, trying not to look too frightening. Then again, he had a guy in a headlock, it was really dark, and he’d never been very good at not looking frightening, so he couldn’t really blame her for being suspicious. 

“Boyfriend?” TTO echoed, freezing. “Oh, fuck no. No fucking wonder, you two are a couple of-” 

“You are on your way to having your neck snapped,” Sousuke said sharply, and TTO fell silent. 

“Don’t worry, okay?” Makoto continued, as if TTO hadn’t said anything. “Our friend is calling the park rangers, back at the path. We can bring you back and make sure you get home safely.” 

The girl gave a tentative nod. She reached for his hand and let him pull her up, stumbling a little as she righted herself. She cleared her throat and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Thank you.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Y-yeah, just need to, um.” She took a shaky breath and pulled a couple pine needles from her hair. “Just need to catch my breath. Did you say you called the police…?” 

Makoto winced. “Well, the park rangers. But we can call the police, too.” 

“Um. Yeah, that’s probably…” She trailed off and touched a quaking finger to her bruised cheek. Her eyes fell to TTO, who had exhausted himself from struggling and had gone limp in Sousuke’s grip. “Where’s the other one…?” 

“You broke my wrist,” a pitiful voice whined from behind Sousuke, as if on cue. 

Sousuke rolled his eyes. “You tripped and fell on it wrong, dumbass. I didn’t do anything. It’s probably just sprained, anyway. If that.” 

The kid whimpered. “You broke my wrist.” 

Makoto gave a heavy sigh. “I’ll take a look at it. Sousuke, do you mind taking back our, um.” He glanced down at TTO, his nose wrinkling with disgust. “Our hostage, I guess?” 

“Oh, hell no,” TTO snapped, pulling weakly against Sousuke’s grip. “Hell fucking no, I’m not letting you take me back-” 

“Give it a rest, will you?” Sousuke said. He adjusted his footing as TTO writhed. “I will drag you back by your hair, if I have to. And I will enjoy it immensely, trust me.” 

“So will I,” the girl said, her voice a little clearer. Her grey eyes, blown wide with fear a matter of minutes before, narrowed a sharp hatred that made Sousuke’s stomach roll. “I’ll do it myself, if he won’t.” 

TTO spat at her. “Don’t you fucking look at me, you stupid little-” 

“I think this would be a good time for you to shut up, if it’s all the same to you,” Makoto said coolly as he crouched by the other’s side. His voice dripped with enough venom to make Sousuke actually feel sorry for the guy he currently had in a headlock. “You’ve made your point. It’s a point that we’re going to ignore in favor of handing you over to the officials, but a point nonetheless. So you can stop talking now.” 

TTO fell into shocked silence, and Sousuke resisted the urge to snort. 

"How did you..." The girl looked between the two of them, rubbing her arms weakly. "How did you know I was...?" 

"We saw them take you into the trees and followed," Sousuke said. "We left our friend to get help." 

"I'm, um. Thank you. I can't even..." She took a shaky breath, and her chin wobbled. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome," Sousuke said, but it sounded more like a croak than an actual reply. He cleared his throat. "It's going to be okay. We'll get you home." 

She smiled tentatively, lifting a hand to rub her dust-layered cheek. "Thank you." 

"Um, Sousuke?" Makoto said from the other guy's side. 

"Yeah?" 

"Uh, yeah. His wrist is definitely sprained." 

"Fuck."


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know shit about what happens at a police department. \\(*v*)/

“Here.” 

The girl - Akari, she insisted on being called - looked up from her phone and blinked at the steaming cup Nanase was holding out for her to take. She gave him a soft smile, set her phone down in her lap, and brought it close to cradle with both hands. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. Her black fingernails, only just poking out of the sleeves of the coat Makoto had lent her, fidgeted against the sides of the drink. “You didn’t have to buy me something.” 

Nanase offered a shrug. “Chocolate helps with stress.” 

He took a seat on the picnic table’s bench at her side, across from Sousuke and Makoto. The three of them watched her take a tentative sip, her nose wrinkling and her lips pulling into a thin line. “It’s hot.” 

“Be patient,” Nanase sighed, and Makoto laughed softly. 

“Get the fuck off me!” TTO snarled from the curb to their right, wriggling under the grip of the police officer who’d pushed him up against his car. The flashing blue and red lights illuminated their figures, along with the other officer who was a little preoccupied with shoving the other kid into the back seat and snapping at him to shut up about his damn wrist. The park rangers Nanase had called originally hovered from a distance, talking in low voices to each other and occasionally glancing over at their picnic table where the four of them sat. Sousuke shifted closer to Makoto under their gaze, a little less than pleased to be the obvious source of discussion. 

“Are you cold, Makoto-kun?” Akari asked. She fidgeted nervously, the fluffy lining of Makoto’s jacket muffling her voice. “You really didn’t have to give me your coat. I’m fine with my cardigan…” 

Makoto smiled reassuringly at her, despite the visible goosebumps up his arms. “It’s really okay. I’m happy to offer what I can to make you more comfortable.” 

“Oh.” Akari’s cheeks flushed. She buried her face deeper into the coat’s lining. “Okay, if you’re sure. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

“I can be your jacket,” Sousuke said. He wrapped an arm around Makoto and pulled him close. “It’s probably not as good, but…” 

“No, this is good,” Makoto laughed. He shifted his hips closer, so their thighs pressed together. “Thanks.” 

“I can lend you my coat,” Nanase said, his fingers drumming on the wooden surface of the table. “I’m not as affected by the cold as you are. It’d work out for everybody.” 

Makoto winced. “Thanks Haru, but I’m pretty sure I’d rip your coat if I tried to put it on. This is really okay. Why else do you think I keep Sousuke around? His body heat is his best quality.” 

Sousuke rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious.” 

“Of course. That’s what you like about me, right?” 

Akari laughed softly. “You seem to have strange motives for dating each other.” 

“Oh yeah,” Makoto agreed, nodding seriously. “It’s simple, really. I keep him around for warmth, and he keeps me around for my killer sense of humor. It’s pretty balanced now, but in the summer we have lots of problems.” 

Sousuke thwacked the back of his head, and Akari laughed against the rim of her drink. It was cute, how her nose scrunched when she smiled. Sousuke thought he appreciated it more than the look of enraged terror she’d been wearing forty minutes prior. 

“So, you two really are, um.” She smiled nervously and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re boyfriends?” 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no! It’s just… Well, you don’t usually meet a lot of same sex couples in the city, right?” 

Makoto nodded, his smile slipping into a grimace. “Yeah.” 

“It’s not a bad thing, I’m just surprised,” Akari said, setting her drink down. She glanced between them curiously. “So. You two are, uh.” 

“Gay?” Sousuke finished for her. He shook his head. “Nah. I’m bi.” 

“And I’m pansexual,” Makoto said, and Sousuke couldn’t help a twinge of pride at the determination in the way he said it. 

Akari blinked in surprise. “Wow. We’re quite the diverse bunch then, aren’t we?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I’m ace,” she said, her lips twitching up. “I’m not sexually interested in anybody. So, we’re kinda on opposite ends of the spectrum, Makoto-kun.” 

Makoto laughed. “I suppose we are.” 

“What about you, Nanase?” Sousuke asked, leaning forward. “You and Kisumi, right? So…” 

Nanase shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t think about it much. Makoto said something earlier that made sense to me.” 

“Panromantic demisexual,” Makoto clarified. He offered an uncertain shrug. “Or just demisexual, to be more general. It means he doesn’t feel sexual attraction towards people he doesn’t have an emotional connection with. But when he does have sexual attraction, it can be with anyone, regardless of gender.” 

Nanase nodded. “Yeah, that. Maybe. I think.” 

“So we’re not that different, Haruka-kun,” Akari said, smiling shyly.

“I guess not,” Nanase agreed. He shrugged. “Who knows, though. Can’t be too sure.” 

“You’re questioning, then?” 

“Not really. I just don’t think about it. Can’t call it questioning if I’m not actually asking questions.” 

Akari nodded. “Fair enough. I hope you figure it out when you have a desire to, Haruka-kun.” 

“Thanks.” Nanase hesitated. “And just Haru is fine.” 

Sousuke sighed and shook his head. “Panromantic demisexual… Questioning… This all sounds much too complicated. Call me old fashioned, but I think I prefer determining it all by just asking myself who I want to bang.” 

Akari giggled. “No one.” 

Makoto shrugged. “Anyone?” 

Nanase picked at a splinter on the table. “Depends.” 

Makoto leaned back and grinned. ‘We really are diverse, aren’t we?” 

“If we had Rin and Fujioka here, we’d be, like, a complete package,” Sousuke agreed. 

“I don’t know about that, but we’d definitely cover most of the bases.”

“We could start a band,” Nanase mused.

“Yeah, you’re right. I can see it now.” Sousuke slid his upturned palm through the air, as if masking a sign. “The ‘Six Singing Sexualities.’”

Makoto and Akari laughed, and Nanase smirked down at the table. 

“This is so weird,” Akari said. She smiled softly, her thumbs rubbing the sides of her drink. “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to talk so openly about my sexuality before. Or… You know. Be in the presence of other LGBT members that don’t think asexuality is wrong.” 

Makoto stiffened at Sousuke’s side. “Wrong? Why would it be wrong?” 

“I don’t know, really. I guess people just don’t like what they can’t understand. Tonight was…” She glanced up at the police car, where the police officers were talking into their communicators. “Tonight was confirmation of that.” 

Even in the dark lighting, the green of Makoto’s eyes sharpened with dangerous alarm. “Wait. They did this to you, because you’re…?” 

Akari offered a little shrug. She tucked her face deeper into the lining of his coat. “Pretty much. One of them asked me out, and when I said no, he demanded why, and when I told him the truth…” 

Sousuke’s hand curled into a fist in his lap. “What the actual fuck.” 

“People think I’m conceited,” she croaked, shaking her head. “I don’t tell a lot of people here, because I know they’re either going to think I’m too into myself or I’m just a whimpery little virgin who’s afraid of sex. It wasn’t this bad back home, in Kamakura. I don’t understand why it’s so different here.” 

“I always thought it was better here,” Makoto said. His voice was small, but his gaze was hard. “At least compared to Iwatobi.” 

Akari shrugged again. “Who knows? Maybe it’s different for other people. Different backgrounds, different sexualities...” She paused. “Different genders.” 

Makoto didn’t respond. He released a shaky breath, his hands pressing hard against his thighs, as if struggling to keep them from curling into fists. His gaze flickered over to the police car, and Sousuke was pretty sure he’d never seen those green eyes burn with such hatred. 

A silver car pulled up along the curb, and a panicked-looking woman with Akari’s dark hair stepped out and slammed the door. 

Akari shot up. “Mom!” 

The woman’s eyes found her by the picnic table. Her face immediately crumpled with relief. “Kari!” 

They rushed towards each other, and Akari’s mother pulled her into a crushing embrace, before holding her out to inspect her, demanding if she was alright and what the hell had happened. 

Sousuke released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. 

“We better go face the music,” Nanase said. He pushed himself to his feet. “The officers will want to ask questions about what happened.” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke rubbed Makoto’s arm, turning to face him. “Hey. You alright?” 

Makoto tore his gaze away from the police car to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just don’t…” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t understand how people can be so cruel, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke nodded. “I know.” 

“I don’t understand why people can’t just.” He stopped abruptly and glared down at the table. “It makes me so mad. Why does it have to always be like this?” 

“I don’t know,” Sousuke said. He rubbed Makoto’s arm one last time and stood. “C’mon. Let’s go get these questions over with so we can go home.” 

“Okay.” 

\---o0o---

Sousuke had been around Makoto long enough to know that everything about him sharpened when he was angry. He never lashed out, never raised his voice, but would instead grow hard and stiff. When Makoto was angry, he was quiet and calm, but probing and prodding more would only result in drawing your own blood. 

Sousuke figured that was definitely important information to file away. He liked to think that he’d never be on the receiving end of Makoto’s anger, but if he was being realistic, he doubted that would be the case. Part of hoping for a long relationship to come was accepting that, sooner or later, Makoto was going to be angry with him. And he was going to be angry at Makoto. They’d never fought before, (besides short arguments and annoyed banter,) but there was certainly a multitude of things they disagreed on. It couldn’t be helped, really. They were very different people, with very different opinions. For every trait they shared, there was a difference to combat it. 

Sousuke made a promise to himself that, whenever the day came that they got tangled up in a serious argument, he’d at least try to hold back from pushing too hard. Not because Makoto was fragile, but because he was pretty sure that when Makoto finally did strike back, it wouldn’t be something he would recover easily from. 

He tucked the promise away as he and Makoto stumbled back into Shinoa’s apartment, their shoulders slumping with exhaustion. One of the police officers had insisted they ride down to the police department to give a statement of what happened, but her (much more considerate,) partner had instead collected their contact information so they could visit the next morning, when they weren’t about to keel over. Makoto, Sousuke, and Nanase had waited through Akari and her mother’s flurry of gratitude for a good fifteen minutes before they were able to slip away and head back home. 

“Who knew kicking ass could be so tiring,” Sousuke joked, shrugging his coat off as soon as the door clicked shut behind them. “Shit, what time is it?” 

Makoto checked his watch. “One in the morning.” 

“Ugh. I must be getting old. Back in the day, we could stay up until three without a problem.” 

Makoto laughed. “You said it yourself. Kicking ass is no task for the weak.” 

Sousuke groaned, immediately crossing his arms over his torso to pull his shirt off. He let it fall to the ground and undid the button of his pants. “Time for bed.” 

“Don’t sleep in your jeans,” Makoto replied, his voice lacking the usual motherly conviction. He tugged his own shirt off and followed Sousuke into the bedroom, toing his sneakers off as he went. “Your pajama pants should be on the floor somewhere…” 

Sousuke grunted as he bent over to pick them up. He wriggled out of his jeans and replaced them with the fuzzy sweats, sighing with relief at the warm, loose wool against his legs. With a majestic swivel, he turned and flopped onto the bed with a satisfying ‘flump!’ Makoto climbed on after him, nudging his arm back so he could peel back the blankets and clamber in. 

Sousuke turned his face to the side to look at him. He lifted a hand to touch Makoto’s face, brushing a strand of hair behind his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Makoto sighed. He picked at a stray string on the pillow’s corner. “It’s just a lot. A lot to be angry about, a lot to be sad about.” 

Sousuke nodded. “It’s hard.” 

“It really is. You know, this last year, I’ve realized a lot. Some good things, and some stuff that’s just…” His nose wrinkled. “It’s just stupid. It’s stupid shit. Stupid shit about stupid, meaningless things that make me so stupidly sad and angry that I want to punch something. And when have I ever been one to punch stuff?” He shook his head and smiled softly, his hair crackling with static against the pillow. “I wish I could protect everyone, you know? I wish I could make things change. I’m tired of coming to the realization that people are so cruel to each other, again and again. It’s exhausting, and I hate it.” 

Sousuke rubbed his cheek, his thumb ghosting over a constellation of freckles. “You can make things change.” 

“Well, yeah, but you know. Make things really change. Like, snap my fingers and make everything a little better. Maybe become a superhero, or something.” He grinned. “It’s so dumb, but I could really go for some super powers right about now.” 

“I think we all could,” Sousuke agreed solemnly, and Makoto laughed. He put his hand over Sousuke’s and squeezed. 

“If I’ve learned anything from all this, it’s that I want to help people,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “All the good stuff contributes to that, too. Meeting you again, making new friends in school, swimming on the team, figuring out who I am and stuff… All that, plus everything else that’s been less than great, just makes me want to change things. Even if I’m not very good at it, I want to do something.”

“Makoto, please don’t worry about not being good at it, whatever it is,” Sousuke said. He smiled fondly. “The fact that you’re so determined to do something is more than enough. And c’mon. You’re practically a prodigy at helping people. There’s not a chance you won’t be good at it.” 

Makoto smiled. “Thanks. You think much too highly of me, you know.” 

“I think we can agree that I have never been one for exaggeration. Why would this by any different?” 

“You love me.” 

“Even more reason to be realistic with you,” Sousuke replied simply. “I’m not going to encourage you if I think you can’t handle it. I’d rather set you up for success than comfort you later. I’m not very good at comforting.” 

“I disagree,” Makoto said with a laugh. He placed a hand on Sousuke’s neck, his fingers tickling the short hairs at his nape. “I wish I were more like you.” 

“Me? Why?”

“Fishing for compliments, are you?” Makoto teased, and Sousuke snorted. “No, I really do. You’re braver than I am. You know what you want, and you’re not afraid to work for it. You’re not as affected by what others think, and you don’t seem to be afraid of anything.” He smiled, his fingers curling. “Not even of aggressive, homophobic strangers hiding out in the forest.” 

“And you’re under the impression that I think too highly of you,” Sousuke said with a puff of laughter, feeling his ears flush. “Makoto, just because I can keep a guy in a headlock doesn’t make me any braver than you.” 

“That was only one example, but okay,” Makoto sighed. He traced Sousuke’s eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, his gaze inspecting his face sleepily. “I admire you a lot, is the bottom line. You have a way of inspiring people that I wish I had.” 

Sousuke scoffed. “When have I ever inspired anyone?” 

“You can’t be serious. Do you want me to list them all?” He pulled his hand back to count on his fingers. “Rin, since you were little kids. Nitori, during our last year. Rei, after he saw you swim for the first time. Even Haru, when he was going through some personal issues that summer.” 

Sousuke blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. He cleared his throat.“How the hell did you know about Nitori and Nanase?” 

“Rin boasts about what a good teacher you’d make all the time, and Haru may have told me after he found out we’re dating. I think he meant it as a warning that you’re ‘too aggressive,’ but I thought it was kinda thoughtful of you. And it certainly got the message across.” 

“Yeah, well. Yelling at Nanase is kinda the only way I can get him to listen to me.” 

Makoto lifted an eyebrow, his tone turning sarcastic. “Uh huh. Because you’ve always been so good at attempting to have an actual conversation with him.” 

“It’s time to sleep,” Sousuke decided, turning onto his back. “No need for a lecture. Sleepy time.” 

“Fine,” Makoto said with a sigh. “I know you get it.” 

“I do. Actual conversations with Nanase. Consider it added to my ‘to do’ list.” 

“No pressure, but I’m glad,” he hummed, shifting further under the covers. “Can I ask one more thing of you?” 

“Hm?” 

“Please stop calling him Nanase. He hates it.” 

“He calls me Yamazaki,” Sousuke countered. 

“But you don’t mind it. And he’ll stop, if you start calling him Haru.” 

“Fine. From now on, he’s Haruka.” 

Makoto groaned. “No, he hates that even more.” 

Sousuke faked an evil laugh, arched his spine in one last stretch, and flopped back against the covers. He let his eyes fall shut, a smile tugging at his lips as he felt Makoto’s pinky curl around his. 

“Thank you,” Makoto hummed. 

“For what? For calling him Haruka?” 

“No, for just being you. You make me feel… capable.” 

Sousuke turned his head against the pillow and furrowed his eyebrows, eyes still closed. “Capable of making things change, you mean.” 

“Yeah. But more than that. Capable of a lot of things that I’ve never considered.” 

“You are, though.” 

Makoto sighed, and Sousuke could hear the smile in his voice. “Why are you so good to me?” 

“You make it much too easy to be,” Sousuke replied honestly. 

“Jeez, Sousuke…” Makoto groaned, the words catching with embarrassment. Sousuke grinned and curled their pinkies tighter together. Warm fingers traced his jaw, feather-light, as if afraid he’d shatter under the slightest pressure. “You make my heart sing blue.” 

“Dammit, Makoto,” Sousuke huffed, feeling his ears heat up. “Don’t retaliate with poetry. I can’t keep up with that.” 

Makoto mimicked his evil laugh from before, stressing the vowels like a despicable disney villain, and Sousuke blindly reached out to shove his face away. 

\---000---

“I really don’t have the fucking money for this,” Sousuke grumbled to Makoto as he handed the wad of bills to their seedy taxi driver. He flipped his wallet shut and stuck it forcefully back into his pocket. “The next time we have to go somewhere far away, let’s just steal somebody’s tandem bike.” 

Makoto rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. Two thousand yen isn’t that much for a taxi ride.” 

“Speak for yourself. You’re not the one paying for it.” 

“Hey, I’m paying on the ride back. I promised, didn’t I?” He turned to begin the walk up the Tokyo Police Department’s front stairs, his worn combat boots squelching against the wet concrete. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.” 

“Right. Because we ‘simply must be in for questioning at eleven sharp,’” Sousuke drawled, with the exaggerated lilt of the police officer they’d met the night prior. They’d been too worn after the commotion to properly appreciate her Northern accent, but after Sousuke’s rather rude awakening that morning, he was more than happy to annoy Makoto with his impression of her. “‘Golly gee goodness, I pray they don’t throw us in the slammer for arriving tardy! How absolutely dreadful that would be!’” 

“‘Hurry it along, Love,’” Makoto mimicked back to him, sweeping his bangs back pretentiously. “‘I dare say, we’re no better than the dreadful crooks themselves if we arrive late to our questioning.’”

“‘Quite right, Love, quite right.’”

“‘Shall we go out for fancy tuna after this, Love?’” 

“‘I would be content with any variation of fancy fish, to be quite honest, Love.’”

Makoto grinned and linked arms with him, matching his steps up the stairs perfectly. “‘That is so pleasing to hear, Love. I am actually craving a bit of fancy salmon, if it is all the same to you.’” 

“‘That sounds absolutely scrumptious, Love,’” Sousuke said, sloppily rolling his ‘r’s, and Makoto ducked his head to laugh in his hand, strands of hair falling back into his face. Smiling to himself, Sousuke opened the door for him. “I don’t mean to alarm you, ‘Love,’ but I think we’re probably the funniest couple in the entire city.” 

Makoto smiled. “No, not the funniest. Just the best at making fun of people who don’t deserve it.” 

“Same difference.” 

“You’re terrible,” he mused, dropping his arm from Sousuke’s as he stepped up to one of the open desk windows. He flashed the woman behind the glass a warm smile. “Hi. We’re here to give our statements?” 

The woman sighed through her nose and brought out a binder. “Names?” 

“Tachibana Makoto and Yamazaki Sousuke.” 

She nodded, her well-manicured finger falling down a packed list before coming to a stop and tapping against the laminated surface. “Right. You’re the ones who have the rooms at eleven. Go ahead down this corridor here and take a left. There should be officers waiting for you.” 

“Thank you.” He dipped his head with gratitude and tugged Sousuke forward by the sleeve of his jacket, cutting his inspection of the Police Department short. 

Akari and her mother were just slipping out of one of the rooms as they approached, their expressions solemn. They handed two clipboards to the waiting officers with matching nods of acknowledgement. Akari glanced up and caught Sousuke’s eye, and her face immediately lit up. 

“Makoto-kun, Sousuke-kun,” she greeted them, offering a little wave. “Hi, again.” 

“Good morning, Akari-san,” Makoto returned. 

Sousuke looked her up and down, monumentally relieved to see her cleaned up a little. “How are you feeling?” 

Akari winced. “Um. Okay. Tired, mostly. I… really don’t want to be here right now.” 

He nodded in understanding and tried for a reassuring smile. “Much too early for this sort of thing, right?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” she said, her lips turning up in the slightest. “You here to give statements?” 

“Mm-hm. I don’t know if they’re going to ask more questions, but…” 

“We won’t,” one of the officers by the door said, not looking up from the clipboard in his hands. “Just statements for today. Hopefully that will be all we need from you two.”

“Please come in and sit at opposite ends of the table,” the other said, opening one of the doors. “We’ll get pencils and paper for you in a second.” 

“Wait.” A small hand on Sousuke’s wrist stopped him from taking a step forward. He glanced down at Akari with lifted eyebrows, surprised to see a deep flush across her cheeks. The ghost of a smile on her lips broadened into what he could safely call a grin as she held a little slip of paper out. “Um. My number. If you wouldn’t mind… It’d be really great to get together with you guys again. Maybe properly thank you for what you did for me. And, um. You know, maybe be friends.” 

Sousuke’s features softened. He took the paper and held it gently in his palm, careful not to crinkle it. “Yeah. That’d be nice.” 

“Here, I’ll give you our numbers, too,” Makoto said, slipping a pen out of his pocket. He took Akari’s wrist and pulled her close to scribble on the inside of her arm. He released her with a bright smile. “We know some good coffee shops, if you’d ever want to go with us.” 

Akari’s grin widened. “I’d like that.” 

“Kari,” her mother interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We should go.” 

“Oh, uh. Okay.” Akari let herself be pulled away, waving back at them. “Good luck!” 

\---000---

Writing down what had happened was surprisingly difficult. 

Everything had happened so fast, and all Sousuke could clearly recount was a lot of swearing, sharp anger, and the dread that had dropped in his stomach when Makoto reported the guy’s wrist was sprained. He was thankful that he’d been given a pencil instead of a pen, because a lot of erasing was necessary. It felt incredibly awkward to write something in and rub it out under the heavy gazes of the officers, especially when Makoto was sitting across the table, his pencil moving fluidly and his face slack. 

They finished at about the same time and handed their clipboards over. The time Sousuke had taken to write and erase and write again Makoto had used to fill up the entire sheet of paper, his slanted handwriting crammed into every line. 

Recounting what had happened took its toll more than Sousuke had expected. They left the room in silence, Makoto’s eyes trained on the floor. When he was sure no one was looking, Sousuke brushed a strand of hair out of his face, which earned him a half-hearted smile. 

“That was… harder than I thought it was going to be,” he admitted. 

Makoto nodded. “My chest feels tight. I’m angry, like I was last night.” 

“Yeah.” 

“It was like my hand was writing on its own, and all I could do was read what I’d written and go through it all again.” He shook his head and smiled. “I’ve decided I don’t like statements.” 

“I think that’s something we can agree on,” Sousuke said. “I could barely remember the details of what had happened at first, but once I did, it made me sick to my stomach. Makes me wish I’d broken both of their wrists.” 

Makoto’s smile widened at the floor. “You don’t mean that.” 

“I do a little.” 

“We’re in a police department, you realize,” he said with a soft laugh. His smile quickly faded as he glanced up to meet Sousuke’s eyes. “You know, as I was writing that all down, I couldn’t help but think the same thing over and over: that could’ve been anyone.” 

Sousuke frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean that what happened to Akari - being attacked for who she is - could’ve happened to literally anyone,” Makoto said, his voice firm. “What if it had been Rin, or Haru, or Gou? What if it had been Ran or Ren?” He visibly swallowed. The next words were small. “What if it had been you?”

Sousuke’s chest tightened. He managed a croak. “But it wasn’t.” 

“But it could’ve been,” Makoto insisted. “And if it was, would anybody be around to help, like we were? Or would somebody get away with hurting you?” He tore his gaze away and glared down at their feet again. “It makes me so scared, Sousuke. And angry. It hasn’t even happened, but I can feel my blood boiling, just thinking about it.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, with nothing better to say. He didn’t bother checking their surroundings, just pulled him close for a loose embrace. The tension in Makoto’s body eased under Sousuke’s hands. He sighed and relaxed against him, his hair tickling Sousuke’s cheek as he turned his face into the crook of his neck. 

“I don’t like being angry,” he mumbled into the fabric of Sousuke’s jacket. His hands settled on Sousuke’s hips, holding them with just a hint of desperation in his grip. “I don’t like being afraid.” 

“I don’t like it either.” 

They held each other for a moment, swaying a little, until Makoto pulled away. He sighed again. “Thanks. I think I needed that.” 

“I think I needed that, too,” Sousuke admitted. 

Makoto smiled softly. “Do you need another one?” 

“...Maybe, but not right now,” he said, grimacing. “Let’s just go home.” 

“Okay.” Makoto nodded. “Gimme a second, though. I’m going to the bathroom.” 

“Should I go ahead and hail a cab?” 

“If you’d like. I won’t be long, I promise,” he said, turning away to jog down the hall. Opting to wait, Sousuke leaned against the wall and watched him go with folded arms.   
Someone’s gaze on him made him glance away, and he found himself looking into the eyes of a short police officer with silver hair. She inspected him curiously, her pen frozen in the air as she glanced from Sousuke to where Makoto had disappeared and then back. 

She’d seen them, then. Fuck. 

“Um,” Sousuke said, very intelligently. He winced as the single syllable hung between them. 

Her lips pursed after a tense beat. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly neutral. “Boyfriend?” 

“No,” Sousuke rasped. 

Her blank look turned amused. There was no way in hell she’d bought it. “I see. Sorry for assuming, sir. Can I help you with anything?” 

He shook his head. “No, we’re, uh. Just leaving.” 

“Are you here for questioning?” 

“Giving statements.” 

She hummed in acknowledgement. “You wouldn’t happen to be Yamazaki Sousuke, would you?” 

He blinked in alarm. “Yes?” 

“Thought so. You and your… friend, were the ones who helped that girl last night, huh?” she asked. Sousuke nodded, and she smiled. “I was the one who organized the file for this case. I’m guessing you’re the one who sprained that boy’s wrist and kept the other one in a headlock until the authorities arrived?” 

Sousuke winced. “I didn’t sprain it. He… tripped. Landed wrong.” 

“My mistake,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re also the one who instructed your friend to call the police while you went after the boys.” Sousuke nodded, and she took a couple casual steps forward. “That was pretty brave of you, to go after them. And good thinking, to leave one of your friends to call for help, even if the situation wasn’t clear.” 

“Uh. Thank you.” 

“You’re young, too. Twenty years old, yes?” 

“Yeah.” 

She tilted her head, her grey hair rippling over her shoulder like a single sheet of metal. “Ever thought of becoming a police officer, Yamazaki-kun?” 

“Sorry?” he mumbled, fidgeting a little under her gaze. 

“A police officer. You’d make a good one, I think. Going off of what you did last night, that is. Not many people can say they acted as you did under pressure. Young, athletic, sharp people such as yourself are the kind of people that excel on the force.” She leaned back and smiled apologetically. “Excuse me for forcing my opinion on you, but I can’t help but offer it. Too many years acting as a mentor to academy graduates, you know.” 

Sousuke nodded slowly. “Uh, no, I don’t mind. I’ve… never thought about it, before.” 

“You should. At the very least, it’s a noble profession,” she said with an amused glint in her eyes. “A great way to invoke change in our society.” 

“Yeah,” Sousuke agreed dumbly, taken aback. Had she heard their conversation? Makoto’s words from the night before came back to him, sharp and clear: ‘Even if I’m not very good at it, I want to do something.’ 

“Here.” The officer turned to briefly lean over a desk and snatched a pamphlet from a little plastic stand. She held it out to him, and he took it carefully. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but this is just a guide of police academies in the area and the basics of working on the force. Maybe just to glance over when you’ve got nothing better to do, right?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his thumb over the glossy cover. Something warm and pressing swelled in his chest as he turned it over to inspect the back. “Thank you.” 

She shrugged. “I’d be an idiot not to at least offer, after looking over your actions last night. If you’re not interested, then by all means, throw it away or pass it along.” 

“No, no. Thank you, really.” He tucked it into the safety of his pocket, careful not to bend it. “I’ll definitely take a look at it.” 

She beamed up at him. “I’m glad.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~guess who's posting this at one in the morning~*  
> *~it me~*
> 
> 600+ comments!!! 700+ kudos!!!! Thank you so much I am overwhelmed with giggly warm feelings. ;///v///; Honestly anyone who reads this, silently or otherwise, you are now my friend. No exceptions. Sorry I don't make the rules. 
> 
> arguingggg, police stufffff, kisuharuuu, SMUTTTTTT

“Sousuke, c’mon.” 

“No.” 

“He said he was sorry.” 

“No.” 

“You’re not even going to look at me?” 

“No.” 

“No? That’s all you’re going to say?” 

“I have nothing else to say to you.” 

“Well, now you’re just being dramatic.” 

“You let that man into our home, Makoto. You watched him drink the last can of cola, and you did nothing. You stood idly by while he robbed me of my own purchased goods. I am not being dramatic.” 

“It was one drink.” 

“It was the last drink. Do you know how much that brand costs? I’m going to have to buy a whole new pack, and you’ve seen the contents of my wallet.” 

“That’s... a fair point. But c’mon, don’t punish me for what he did.” 

“Oh no, I’m punishing you for what you did.” Sousuke swivelled around in the office chair to face him, a determined frown set in place. “You didn’t do a thing, Makoto. He drank it in front of you, and you didn’t do a single. Thing. You watched him take advantage of my absence.” 

Makoto crossed his arms over his chest. “We were talking. I wasn’t paying attention to what Haru was doing, I was paying attention to the conversation I was trying to have. I’m sorry, alright? I can’t keep tabs on your drinks at all hours of the day.” 

“I’m not asking you to. All I ask is that you pay a tiny bit of attention to what Haruka takes from our food supply,” Sousuke insisted. “If Rin had been over and he had tried to eat anything of yours, I would’ve stopped him. You and I both know that.” 

Makoto pursed his lips with annoyance. “I said I was sorry.” 

“Buy me another pack.” 

He bristled. “No!”

“Seriously? After you watched-” 

“I’m not buying you an entire pack just because I let Haru drink one can,” he said tartly. 

“So you admit you let him.” 

“I wasn’t paying attention!” 

“I can’t even look at you, right now,” Sousuke huffed, turning the office chair back around to face the desk. “This is betrayal, Makoto. I don’t have a doubt that Haruka knew the cola was mine, and drank it anyways to spite me. You’re supposed to be on my side. What happened to wanting us to be friends?” 

“It’s. It’s a can of cola.” 

“The last can of cola.” 

Makoto just sighed. Sousuke felt him approach and lean against the back of the office chair. “You know, for our last night in Shinoa-san’s apartment, I didn’t expect us to be doing this.”

“Yeah, well. I’m frustrated with you.” 

“I’m not too pleased with you either, but can’t we just forget about it?” Makoto said, his breath stirring the ends of Sousuke’s hair as he leaned closer. “Let’s take advantage of what we have at the moment and do something else.” A hand slipped down Sousuke’s chest, and Makoto’s voice went low beside the shell of his ear. “Something more… horizontally inclined, maybe?” 

A shiver went up Sousuke’s spine. “I have the strangest feeling that you’re trying to distract me by seducing me.” 

“That’s… not the strangest feeling,” Makoto said, smiling into his hair. He dropped his lips to press against the nape of Sousuke’s neck, the hand on Sousuke’s chest giving his pectoral a squeeze through his shirt. “But I’m also interested in making the most of our last night alone.” 

“We are going back to the dorms tomorrow…” Sousuke agreed with disappointment. His nose wrinkled at the thought of going back to sharing a space with Fujioka, in that cramped little room with horribly thin walls. “Ugh. Maybe we should just persuade Shinoa-san to adopt us, so we can stay here.” 

Makoto grinned against his skin. “You really want to live with Kisumi’s chattery little grandma and her three cats?” 

“Well, when you put it like that…” Sousuke grumbled, and Makoto laughed. He swivelled the chair around to meet Makoto’s gaze, and Makoto leaned forward, putting both hands on the armrests. He pressed forward to kiss him with a lingering smile, his soft exhale warming Sousuke’s cupid’s bow. Their mouths moved lazily against each other, warm and dry up until the point Sousuke slid his tongue over the curve of Makoto’s upper lip. He craned his neck back to catch it between his own and suck. Makoto breathed his approval and shifted closer over him to kiss him harder, his gaze glassy in the brief moment they opened their eyes. 

“Mm, c’mere,” Sousuke said, flattening his hand against Makoto’s thigh and pulling him onto his lap. Makoto rested his arm over the back of the chair and cupped his face with his free hand, thumb massaging his jaw and guiding his lips open. Their tongues tangled messily, shameless and wet. Sousuke felt his breath quicken with anticipation. He tugged the front of Makoto’s shirt up and over his head, momentarily interrupting their kiss. 

Makoto breathed a laugh against his mouth. “Maybe we should move to the bedroom before we start taking our clothes off.” 

“Mmm, too much effort,” Sousuke said to his lips. He looped an arm under Makoto’s knees and held his waist to keep him still. His mouth pressed against Makoto’s briefly in farewell before he ducked his head just enough to kiss at his chest. “You should just fuck me on the floor.” 

“Oh, am I topping?” 

“If you want to. I was kinda hoping you would.” He rubbed along the elastic of Makoto’s boxer briefs, poking out of his jeans. “No pressure, or anything. Just figured since this is our last night…” 

“No, no, I want to. Just a little surprised. I figured you’d want to keep topping until we were more… accustomed to each other. If that makes sense.” 

Sousuke groaned into his skin. “Why wait around when I want you to fuck me now?” 

Makoto let out a burst of surprised laughter. “S-Sousuke.” 

“It’s true.” He teased Makoto’s nipple with his tongue, pleased to feel Makoto shudder under his hands, and lifted his head. “I’ve never had many chances to bottom before, you know. None of the guys I’ve been with were all too keen on switching. It’s kinda… exciting, for me.” 

“Exciting,” Makoto echoed, his fingers soothing Sousuke’s hair absently. He dropped his voice to a teasing coo. “Poor, poor Sousuke. Have you been deprived?” 

Sousuke nodded solemnly. “Seriously deprived. Practically starving for some dick.” 

“Aw, baby.” 

“Alas, one of the problems that come with having a big package.”

Makoto grinned. “Cocky, aren’t you?” 

Sousuke gave him a look. “Was that a fucking pun.” 

“I swear I didn’t mean it,” Makoto laughed. “You know, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t super turned on by the idea of you ‘starving for my dick.’” 

“That turns you on, does it?” Sousuke couldn’t suppress a shit-eating grin. “How filthy of you, Tachibana. I’m surprised.” 

“Oh, I’m full of surprises,” Makoto assured him. He tilted his chin up, their lips centimeters apart. “You really want me to fuck you?” 

“Yeah,” Sousuke breathed, heat immediately pooling in his lower abdomen. It really wasn’t fair, how pretty the word ‘fuck’ sounded with Makoto’s voice. Not fair at all. “Please.” 

Maoto faked a sigh of disappointment. “Well, now I have to, don’t I? Since you asked so nicely.” 

“Shut up.” Sousuke pushed him off his lap and caught his hand before he could fall backward. He entwined their fingers and tugged him out of the office, down the hall, past the kitchen, into the bedroom. Makoto grinned with innocent anticipation the entire way, as if Sousuke was leading him to a room full of kittens. Which wasn’t far from the truth, considering Sousuke had to shoo all three of Shinoa’s cats off the bed when they came to a stop. 

He was only just shoving the white flat-faced one roughly away before it could scratch when Makoto gripped his shoulder and swivelled him around, pressing their mouths together. He held Makoto’s arms to steady himself, fumbling to keep up through the fuzzy pleasure of having Makoto’s hands on him. Cold fingers coaxed his shirt up and over his head. As soon as it was out of the way Sousuke pressed forward to meet Makoto’s lips again, breathed his name as a wet moan when Makoto’s tongue fell hungrily over his. 

Makoto had always had a way of turning his mind to mush with his mouth. All thoughts subsided, overpowered by the sensations of Makoto’s tongue, Makoto’s breath, Makoto’s lips, Makoto’s heartbeat against his. Makoto, Makoto, Makoto. It was so easy to surrender his control when they were pressing against each other like this, when Makoto was coaxing his voice from somewhere deep in his chest and when his hands were grasping and soothing Sousuke’s skin as if he were afraid he’d disappear. Makoto’s body against his made him feel raw and vulnerable, and he was pretty sure he’d never enjoyed feeling so exposed under someone’s touch. 

When Makoto’s mouth pulled away and Sousuke’s eyes blearily opened, he was on his back, spine pressing against the quilt and Makoto’s hands pulling his briefs off. They hung from his ankle as Makoto eased his legs up and apart. 

“Lift your hips, Sousuke,” he said, his voice low and thick with a rasp. He cupped Sousuke’s waist and guided it up to slip a pillow under the small of his back. His hand dragged against Sousuke’s skin as he brought it back up to his thigh, pausing to squeeze his ass. “So I don’t have a weird angle.” 

Sousuke nodded, shifting against the sheets. His skin itched with impatient heat. “Yeah, um. Good thinking.” 

“You’re already hard,” Makoto observed. One of the hands on Sousuke’s thighs slipped down to rub against his length, forcing a shuddering gasp from Sousuke’s throat. He leaned over to the bedside table to snatch the bottle of lube, the corners of his lips tilting up. “Starving for some dick, right?” 

“Shut up,” Sousuke grumbled, but it sounded much too breathy to carry any sting. He reached down to rub himself, biting back a sigh of relief at the friction. “Hurry.” 

“Okay, okay.” Makoto squirted the lube into his palm and slicked it over his fingers. He settled over Sousuke, his index finger, cold and slick, pressing hesitantly in. “Like this, yeah?” 

Sousuke winced. “Yeah, but go slow. Ease your way up to the knuckle.” 

“How do I know when I hit your-” 

Sousuke caught him off with a sharp inhale, heat splitting through every nerve of his body at the sudden press of Makoto’s finger against his prostate. His cock hardened and fell heavy against his stomach. “H-holy FUCK.” 

“Oh.” Makoto blinked down at him, his eyebrows lifted. “Guess that answers that question.” 

“Holy shit, don’t jab so suddenly,” Sousuke snapped, his voice shaky. “Slow.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Fuck, just. Please keep going.” 

Smiling apologetically, Makoto hooked his free hand under Sousuke’s knee and pulled his leg up. He curled his finger experimentally, and Sousuke breathed a moan to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and let the gasps fall freely from his lips as Makoto steadily - oh, so steadily - made his way up to three fingers. Sousuke desperately resisted the urge to grab his cock and pump to the rhythm of his thrusts. He was balancing on the edge as it was. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto said softly, his voice a low rasp. He spread his fingers and curled, and Sousuke bit back a cry of pleasure, his spine arching off the bed. “God, you’re so beautiful.” 

“Don’t,” Sousuke groaned, the syllable catching in his throat. 

“Why? You are.” Makoto’s fingers pulled a fraction out, before sinking back in with a horribly lewd squelching noise. He bent his head to kiss the underside of Sousuke’s cock, and Sousuke slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the broken snarl that burst from his lips. “Just watching you react to this gets me hard.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke murmured. He meant it to be threatening, but his voice just sounded sleepy. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto hummed in response. He kissed up Sousuke’s stomach, his mouth leaving spots of burning heat in its wake. His fingers thrusted further as his full lips pursed around Sousuke’s nipple, and Sousuke gripped the sheets, choking on his own sharp gasp. 

Makoto smiled sweetly against his skin. His tongue flicked out to tease his nipple. “Sensitive?” 

“F-fuck you,” Sousuke managed. He rolled his hips down on Makoto’s fingers, gripping the sheets tighter. “C’mon, get along with it.” 

“I want to thoroughly prepare you.” 

“No, you just like-” his own moan cut him off as Makoto’s fingers gave another thrust. “You just like teasing me. Get along with it. I swear I’ll come all over your stupid face ifyoudon’t-FUCK!” 

Makoto smiled much too triumphantly as his fingers slipped out, after the particularly forceful curl that had forced a choked yelp from Sousuke’s throat. “Sorry.” 

“No you’re not,” Sousuke grumbled. “C’mon, Makoto…” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Makoto leaned over him to reach for the box of condoms on the bedside table. Sousuke craned his neck up to suck at his bared throat, his hand fumbling for his cock to keep it hard. Their lips caught when Makoto pulled back, warm and sloppy. Sousuke heard the condom’s wrapper tear at the edge of his mind, a little too preoccupied with the sinful things Makoto’s tongue was doing against his to pay much attention to what his hands were up to. 

“Are you ready?” Makoto breathed into his mouth. His tongue flicked out to catch the string of saliva caught between their lips. He hooked his hands under Sousuke’s knees and slotted himself between his legs, and Sousuke gave an appreciative moan. “I’ll go slow, I promise.” 

“Don’t,” Sousuke managed. He lifted a hand to cup the nape of Makoto’s neck, forcing their eyes to meet. “Makoto. C’mon.” 

Makoto swallowed hard. He studied Sousuke’s gaze, something dark crossing his eyes, something that made Sousuke’s cock feel only heavier against his stomach. He gave a tight sigh and let his hands fall to grip Sousuke’s hips instead. “Dammit.” 

Sousuke’s fingers curled deep in the sheets as Makoto pressed inside him, cursing freely and shakily as Makoto shifted further. He let his head fall against the pillow and gasped at the ceiling. His low voice snarled the blabber he wasn’t entirely conscious of, and he figured he’d take the time to be embarrassed about whatever he was saying later, when Makoto’s cock wasn’t sliding into him so incredibly. 

“Sousuke,” Makoto moaned. He adjusted where he knelt, the movement forcing sharp pleasure up Sousuke’s spine. “Shit, you feel. You feel really good.” 

Sousuke’s reply was an ever-graceful: “Fuckkkkk.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

“No. Fuck, no, it doesn’t. Holy fuck. Fuck, Makoto.” 

Makoto breathed a laugh. His hold on Sousuke’s hips tightened, almost desperately. “Good.” 

“Move.” 

“You sure? Are you-” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke rasped. He pressed himself back against him forcefully. “Move.” 

Makoto made a needy, deep sound at the back of his throat and rolled his hips forward in shallow thrusts. Sousuke sighed with shuddering relief. He locked his ankles at the small of Makoto’s back, pressing his heels against his skin and encouraging him to deepen his thrusts. Makoto ignored him and continued moving gently, slowly, tantalizingly careful. like the stubborn asshole he was. A small part of Sousuke was thankful that Makoto was willing to be so gentle with him, but holy fuck did he really have to be so careful now, of all times. What happened to the guy who’d given him the ride of his life earlier that week? 

“Makoto.” He pressed his heels harder into Makoto’s back, his voice raw and needy. “Makoto, c’mon. P-please.” 

“Let me work up to it,” Makoto insisted in one breath. Fuck, he was holding back so much. Sousuke could hear it in the snarl behind his words, as if he were telling himself, too. He could feel it in the way Makoto’s hands held his hips hard, in the way his thrusts stuttered with hesitance. “I really don’t want to… to hurt you.” 

“You-fuck, you won’t. You won’t. Fuck, Makoto, c’mon. Makoto. Fuck me.” 

His blabbering couldn’t have been very sexy, but it must’ve been effective, because Makoto bit his lip hard and snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. Sousuke’s spine arched and he cried out, his voice hoarse. Makoto’s hands fell from his waist in favor of locking his arms out from under him on either side of Sousuke’s ribcage. His hips rolled, strong and fluid, driving his cock in and out, and Sousuke decided he much prefered this to the careful, shaky thrusts he’d been giving before. 

“Sorry,” Makoto panted. He smiled weakly, his hair shifting against his face. “Like this?” 

Sousuke moaned. He let go of the sheets and held Makoto’s biceps instead, squeezing hard with each thrust. “God, yes. Fuck, Makoto, yes. Fuck.” 

A breathless laugh fell from Makoto’s lips. It was such a soft, innocent sound, compared to Sousuke’s hard, open moans and the terribly lewd noises their bodies made against each other. Sousuke fought to crane his neck up and kiss him, their lips barely making contact before another hard thrust made him collapse back against the pillow with a whine. Words and whimpers tangled in his mouth, and Makoto bent down to muffle them with wet lips. His hair tickled Sousuke’s cheeks and forehead, catching his sweat and turning his skin to fire as their tongues entwined and the muscles of their bodies tightened with Makoto’s thrusts. Sousuke released his biceps and wrapped his arms instead around Makoto’s broad back, cursing and groaning into his mouth.

Makoto whispered Sousuke’s name so delicately against his lips, barely audible over Sousuke’s own voice. He whispered it as if he were afraid it would break on his tongue, and Sousuke urged himself to shut the fuck up to listen better, but his own voice choked and gasped uncontrollably as Makoto’s cock snapped into him. He slumped back against the pillow and opened his eyes to watch Makoto’s face, watch the fumble of his lips as he murmured Sousuke’s name, watch the flutter of his eyelashes as he moved. 

All it took was Makoto’s stomach rubbing for a moment against his strained cock, and Sousuke was officially catapulted over the edge. He came with a sharp cry, his fingers hooked against Makoto’s shoulder blades and his legs slipping from where they were wrapped around Makoto’s waist. 

“Sorry,” he heard Makoto rasp, and Makoto straightened and held his hips again to ride out his own orgasm. Sousuke had just enough energy to wince at the uncomfortable feeling, but Makoto’s face when he came was well worth it. 

The world seemed to slow as Makoto slumped back on his heels, both of their chests heaving. He made quick work at knotting the condom and throwing it away before collapsing at Sousuke’s side. 

“How was…?” 

“Good,” Sousuke said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, good.” 

Makoto sighed into the pillow under his head. “Good.” 

“Could’ve gone without that gentlemanly act at the beginning, though.” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“Sure, but…” 

“Get to the point next time,” Makoto finished for him. He nodded at Sousuke’s grunt of agreement. “Okay. Noted. Any other suggestions?” 

“Maybe…” Sousuke hesitated, pursing his lips at the ceiling. “That thing you did. Before. When you, like. Put your mouth on my nipple.” 

“You didn’t like that?” 

“No, no. I did. Just saying, wouldn’t mind if you did that again sometime.” 

Makoto grinned. “So you’re a chest guy.” 

“Not really. But with you, sort of.” Sousuke swallowed, feeling his ears flush. “When you do it… Your lips…” 

“My lips?” 

“You’ve got nice lips, basically. I like seeing them. On my chest.” 

“Around your nipple, more specifically,” Makoto said, and Sousuke didn’t like the genuinely pleased smile on his face one bit. 

“Nevermind. Fuck you,” he grumbled, and Makoto laughed. 

“C’mon, Sousuke, I’m just teasing. Really, I’ll keep that in mind.” He shifted closer, turning on his side to face him, his expression growing serious. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Sousuke glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Hm.” 

“Did I or did I not satisfy your hunger for some dick?” 

Sousuke scoffed and pushed his face away. 

\---000---

The next morning was spent hurriedly putting the apartment back together. 

They’d been a lot messier than Sousuke had thought, as it turned out. He’d never been a particularly messy guy, but with Makoto around to distract him and a much larger space to keep track of, keeping up with his usual tidiness proved difficult. It didn’t help that Makoto wasn’t the best at cleaning up after himself, either. He had the weirdest habit of cleaning up only a portion of a mess and leaving something out. When Sousuke confronted him about it, he swore he hadn’t seen the last bit every time. 

There was a lot that Sousuke had learned over the past week of living with Makoto. Like how he stacked his dirty dishes on the right side of the sink, instead of the left side. And how he was very thorough when sweeping the floor, but would then go do something else and leave his little pile of dust bunnies and crumbs in the middle of the walkway for Sousuke to step in. He was very particular about the right way to make a bed, but couldn’t care less about balancing the amount of throw pillows on a couch. The cats followed him all over while he cleaned like a family of ducklings. He couldn’t adjust a picture frame to save his life, glared mercilessly at the vacuum if it stuttered, and always neatly folded the end of the toilet paper roll for the next person. 

He had his quirks, and they were all either very cute or very annoying. Honestly, how hard was it to put his cereal bowl on the left side of the sink instead of the right side?

“What are you doing?” Makoto asked impatiently, coming up from behind Sousuke as he was washing dishes. He took the sponge and bowl from him and gave him an offended look. 

“What?” 

“You’re using the spongy side. With no soap.” 

Sousuke raised an eyebrow. “So?” 

“Dish soap is there for a reason,” Makoto said simply. He leaned forward to squirt a generous helping to the green, scratchy side of the sponge. He handed it back to Sousuke, shaking his head. “And how can you expect to get hardened gunk off if you’re using the soft side? Geez, no wonder it’s taking you so long.” 

“I am using dish soap, just a small amount,” Sousuke grumbled. “Using that much is wasteful. And it doesn’t matter which side you use, if you put enough pressure.” 

“Of course it matters. The spongy side just slides along, it doesn’t grip the stains.” 

“Then how come all of the dishes I’ve washed don’t have a speck on them?” 

“Because you devote a ridiculous amount of time to it.” 

Sousuke huffed. “My dish-washing shift, my rules.” 

Makoto’s pulled a frustrated face. They glared at each other for a moment, before he sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry. Wash the dishes how you like.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But at least roll your sleeves up.” He carefully tucked the ends of Sousuke’s sleeves up to the crook of his elbow, stepping around him to fix the other side. “So you don’t get dishwater all over them.” 

“Thanks.” Sousuke paused his scrubbing to let him adjust it, his shoulders relaxing with affection. When Makoto pulled away, he leaned after him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re sweet.” 

Makoto dipped his fingers under the running faucet and flicked droplets at his face, despite his pleased smile. “Just wash, knucklehead. I’m going to attempt to save the office that you tore apart.” 

“I didn’t tear it apart, I just… adjusted some things.” 

“You’ve got your school work in every nook and cranny of her desk, and I don’t even wanna look at the mass of papers around your bag.” He slipped around him to leave for the office, but slowed further down the counter when his eyes caught something. “What’s this?” 

“What’s what?” 

Makoto held it up for him to see. The Police Academy pamphlet. 

“Oh, right.” Sousuke flicked the faucet off and reached for the large pot he’d left to soak. “That’s something an officer at the station gave to me, when you went to the bathroom. We were talking about what happened with Akari-san, and she said something about me making a good officer, so she gave me that to look through. I don’t know, I was curious.” 

“A police officer?” Makoto echoed. He flipped it over to scan the back. “You?” 

“Yeah.” Sousuke’s scrubbing paused. “What, is it weird?” 

“No, no, I’m just surprised. But you know, if you think about it…” He glanced up from the pamphlet with a soft smile. “I can see why she thought you’d make a good one.” 

Sousuke blinked in surprise. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah...Yeah, you’d probably be really great at something like that.” Makoto leaned his hip against the counter and opened the pamphlet curiously. “You’ve always been a quick thinker, and you’re brave, and you’re definitely in shape.” 

Sousuke looked away, feeling the tips of his ears flush. “Thanks.” 

Makoto shrugged. “I’m stating the facts. You could totally be an officer, if you wanted to be.” 

“Thanks,” Sousuke echoed himself, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. 

“And hey, if there’s anything police officers excel at, it’s making a difference, right? Working in public service… That’s always one way to chase after change.” He pushed himself up onto the counter, letting his long legs hang as skimmed through the pamphlet’s flimsy pages. “Geez, not a lot of police academies here. There’s really only one in Tokyo. But I can’t imagine it’s very hard to get in, especially with your brains and athletic abilities…. Oh, hey. There’s an academy in Iwatobi, too. Not far from my neighborhood, actually. You know, I think I heard from someone that Asahi-kun ended up going there, believe it or not…” 

Sousuke nodded down at the pot in his hands, feeling his heart beat a little faster with excitement. He scowled in confusion. Fuck, he was reacting to this as if it actually mattered. Which it didn’t. He had no reason to feel motivated by what Makoto was saying, because he wasn’t interested in becoming a police officer. 

Right? 

“Hm. That was really nice, of that officer to give you this.” Makoto hopped off of the counter, putting the pamphlet back in the spot Sousuke had left it originally. “Maybe I should pick one up for myself. The process of training looks pretty interesting.” 

“Makoto,” Sousuke said, more forcefully than he anticipated. Makoto glanced back at him with lifted eyebrows, and he gulped. “You really think I could be a police officer?” 

Makoto tilted his head. “Sure. Don’t you?” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe.” 

“Well, do you want to be a police officer?” 

He hesitated. The idea certainly excited him, more than a major in business ever had. “I don’t know.” 

“If you want to, then you should. Be an officer, I mean. I know you’d be good at it.” Makoto shrugged. “Who knows, though? Maybe I’m just biased, because I want to see you in a uniform.” 

Sousuke breathed a laugh. “Maybe. Thanks.” 

“Sure, Sousuke.”

\---000---

Haruka came by to drop off the documentaries he’d borrowed twenty minutes before Kisumi and Shinoa were scheduled to return, and he gracefully dedicated every second of those twenty minutes to annoying Sousuke. 

“You missed a spot,” he said, hovering over Sousuke’s shoulder as he swiped a damp cloth over the black surface of the table. He leaned over to delicately pick up a single crumb and held it out for Sousuke to see. “That was close. Good thing you have me around.” 

“Yeah, good thing,” Sousuke agreed sarcastically. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “Anything else I missed, or do I pass your inspection?” 

Haruka tapped his chin thoughtfully, surveying the table’s surface. He bent down over it, so close his heart-shaped face was reflected by the obsidian counter. “Wait. There’s something here.” 

“Oh, really.” 

“Yes. Look, Yamazaki. Look right here.” 

Rolling his eyes, Sousuke leaned over to study where Haruka was pointing. 

“No, look closer.” 

“I am looking closer.” 

“Closer. It’s right there,” Haruka pressed. He put a hand on Sousuke’s shoulder. “Okay, stop. What do you see?” 

Sousuke scowled down at the table, meeting his own reflection’s eyes. “Just my face. What the fuck are you-” 

“Exactly.” Haruka gave a sage nod. “Now smile at the table.” 

“What the fuck.” Sousuke straightened quickly, his nose wrinkling and his eyebrows pinching in his best ‘I am disgusted by this momentous waste of time’ look. “Why do you want me to smile at the table?” 

“So you can see you’ve got tomato skin in your teeth,” Haruka replied simply, and turned to drift away before Sousuke could manage any sort of response. 

“Dammit,” Sousuke said under his breath, and bent down again to check his teeth in the reflection of the table. Sure enough, a bright red layer of tomato skin was snagged between his teeth, painfully obvious. He slid his finger over it to pull it out and privately hoped Makoto hadn’t seen. 

There was a knock at the door, followed by a series of clicking and muffled voices from the other side. Sousuke straightened just as Shinoa swung the door open, her bags hoisted high and Kisumi right behind her. 

“Hellooo, boys!” she said with a dramatic wave of her hand. “We’re home!” 

“C’mon, Nana, you’re taking up the whole doorway,” Kisumi whined, prodding her bag with one of the many in his hands. “Move forward, I’m gonna collapse.” 

“Sorry, sorry. Sousuke-kun! Good to see you again, dear.” Sousuke barely had enough time to smile before she was clasping his face and pulling him down for a wet kiss on the cheek. She pushed him back so forcefully he teetered, and turned to stride off. “Look at how clean my house is! My, what a nice surprise to come home to. Much better than the remains of a university extravaganza, that’s for sure.” 

“I told you they’d be good,” Kisumi said. He set the bags down with a relieved groan, and stretched his back until it popped. “Probably just sat in a corner with a laptop and had Makoto bring you food every once and awhile, right, Sousuke?” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Sousuke agreed, rubbing the lipstick from his cheek. “How was the yoga expedition thing?” 

“It was nice. Lots of stretching. But I’m incredibly flexible, so it wasn’t that bad.” He smirked, stretching his arms over his head. “And what about you, Sou-chan? I trust you had a good birthday while I was gone…” 

“It was okay,” Sousuke said stiffly, and Kisumi’s smile widened. 

“Good. Hopefully you enjoyed yourself.” 

“Mm-hm.”

“Maybe… On multiple occasions? In multiple positions?” 

“Stop.” 

“Shinoa-san, welcome back,” Makoto said from the hallway, effectively cutting off any sort of reply Kisumi would’ve given. There was a series of meowing following his words, and an excited gasp. 

“My babies!” Shinoa cried, which encouraged another eruption of excited mewling and a laugh on Makoto’s part. 

“I heard you two and Haruka had quite the adventure,” Kisumi said, putting his hands on his hips and turning his attention back on Sousuke. He tilted his head to the side, his expression concerned. “What happened? Haruka didn’t really give me details.” 

Sousuke shrugged. “Long story. Have Makoto explain it.” 

Kisumi pouted at him. “That’s hardly a satisfying answer.” 

“I’m hardly one who’s ever proven satisfactory when it comes to storytelling.” 

“Mm. I hope for Makoto’s sake you’re satisfactory in other departments.” 

“I hate you,” Sousuke sighed, and Kisumi laughed. 

“Is Haruka here?” 

“Yeah, around here somewhere. Probably communing with a potted plant, or something.” 

“Rude,” Kisumi mused, smiling fondly regardless. He cupped his hands dramatically around his mouth and sang, “Haruuukkaaa! Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!” 

Sousuke scoffed. “Right. Because he’s going to respond to that.” 

“Mm-hm!” Kisumi hummed, and as if on cue, Haruka poked his head out from the hallway leading to the office, like a mildly interested cat. Kisumi brightened and threw his arms wide. “Haruka! The light of my life! I return to you!” 

Haruka’s expression remained unimpressed. “Cool. Go away again.” 

Kisumi gasped, and Sousuke couldn’t help a snort. “So rude!” 

“Yup,” Haruka agreed, popping the ‘p’ with his lips. He wandered over, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. “How was the thing.” 

“It was good. I missed you, though.” 

“Mm.” 

“C’mon Haruka, don’t pretend like you didn’t miss me too,” Kisumi said, pulling another pout. “You’re acting very nonchalant, for someone who messaged me every night I was gone.” 

“Every night?” Sousuke echoed, and Haruka gave him a look. 

“Not every night,” he said under his breath. He fidgeted under Kisumi’s almost pleading eyes. “Okay. I guess I missed you. A little.” 

“I’ll take it.” Kisumi leaned close to Sousuke to whisper to him in a stage whisper. “Don’t be fooled, Sousuke. Haruka’s been impatiently awaiting my return since the moment I left. He’s thrilled to see me.” 

Haruka’s lips pursed sourly. “Kisumi.” 

“Kiss you? Yeah, okay.” Smiling happily, Kisumi pinched his chin and pressed a kiss to his pout. Haruka’s eyes went wider than Sousuke had ever seen them, and Sousuke couldn’t help but blurt out a bark of laughter at the horrified expression he was left with when Kisumi pulled away. Kisumi set his hands back on his hips, looking so pleased with himself Sousuke thought he was in danger of bursting. “That’s what you wanted, right? A real kiss? Well, I’ve been waiting all week to do that, so you better be thankful.” 

Haruka just blinked at him, his cheeks flushing the faintest of pinks.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo read at your own risk we got some filler fluff and best friends supporting each other goin on very dangerous proceed with caution

‘Under normal circumstances, the police department you would aspire to work for needs to hire you, before you go to an academy. If you are hired by the police department, you will be sent to an academy to begin your training. Some departments, depending on size, have academies specifically designed for trainees of that area, but if the department is small trainees will typically be sent to the closest dependable academy to complete the necessary requirements to become a member of the force. 

‘In Japan, the age limit for application is twenty to thirty five. Applicants are required to pass a written exam, oral interview and physical agility test before they can be deemed eligible. If you pass these and are hired into the department, you will most likely work as a recruit until you are approved for the police academy. Once you are officially accepted, the department will pay for your preparation and give you a salary throughout your training. You will undergo a series of tests, including medical exams, psychological assessments, fitness examination, polygraph tests…’

“Pass your quizzes to the left, please,” the professor’s voice said sharply, and Sousuke jumped, the pamphlet nearly slipping from his lap. He tucked it away and slid his hurriedly-finished quiz to the person on his left. It had been pretty easy - just a simple, back-from-break recap, and Sousuke had used the extra time afterwards to read over the Police Academy pamphlet. 

Again. 

He was starting to wonder if he had a problem. Ever since the silver-haired officer had given it to him, he hadn’t stopped flipping through it. Scribbling absent notes about this or that, following the links it offered, chasing down that little flicker of feeling he got everytime he opened it… 

It became a sort of comfort blanket, as stupid as it sounded. Reading over the information made him feel… capable. Like he could accomplish something down this path. No, more like he could actually flourish down this path. It was kinda strange, having his interest piqued by a profession that he could very well make his own. The only other thing that had made him feel this way was swimming, back when he was a kid. 

Business was… okay, but it didn’t spark any sort of ambition in him, not like police work seemed to. With police work, he could actually make a difference, right? He’d actually be out, making a difference like Makoto had said, not just tucked away in some dusty cubicle. The thought was appealing to him, to say the least. 

Makoto only encouraged his curiosity. Not by necessarily voicing his support, but by just being himself. Sousuke knew he ached for change, after everything that had happened in the past year. His interest in helping others bled into Sousuke’s life. Sousuke liked to think that when they went to sleep together, with his head resting on Makoto’s chest and a warm hand stroking his hair, the beat of Makoto’s heart under his ear coaxed that same interest into him. 

Makoto made him feel like a better person than he was, and he liked that. 

The class let out, and Sousuke made his way back to the dorms, the pamphlet feeling as heavy as a rock in his pocket. The more he thought about this, the more he wondered how people would react to him possibly choosing this path. Possibly. He should definitely mind the ‘possibly.’ 

Makoto would definitely be supportive. That was a no-brainer. His mom would probably be up for it too. Hell, she had been with swimming, and heaven knows that was a tricky profession to chase. He wasn’t so sure about Rin. He trusted his best friend to be supportive of whatever he was passionate about, but police work was so out there, compared to everything they’d worked for together as swimmers. But if Rin was anything, it a was a stronger believer in doing what “lit a fire in his heart,” or whatever. 

His dad was the real problem. 

Not because Sousuke’s dad had anything against police work. He’d always urged Sousuke to bow to passing officers and thank them for their service, no matter how embarrassing it was. He’d also been… accepting, of Sousuke’s dream to be a swimmer. Not ecstatic by any means, but he’d hardly been ecstatic about anything involving his son, so that wasn’t surprising. But now that he was paying for the majority of Sousuke’s education, putting all his faith in Sousuke inheriting the company, apparently doing time for some stupid insider trading… 

That was a conversation Sousuke wasn’t too keen on having. If it ever came to that point, that is.

He sighed at the door of his dorm, pushing it open with the hand not cradling a bundle of papers and notebooks. It was empty, thankfully. Ever since staying at Shinoa’s, he’d developed an even shorter patience for Fujioka, and had made it all too clear. At this point it was very possible Fujioka wasn’t around as much because he was scared of being murdered. Which was reasonable. 

He dropped his bags and fell on his bed with an elegant flumping noise, groaning into his pillow. Another side effect of being curious in police work, as it turned out, is a sudden and determined disinterest in anything school related. Not like he was interested before, but that stupid police pamphlet was making him want to skip doing assignments in favor of researching recruit training systems. Add that to his constant desire to do Makoto instead of homework, and he was in trouble. 

“This room smells like bird shit,” he said out loud, his voice muffled by his pillow. Because it was true, and he was sick of it. Dammit, Shinoa’s apartment had broken him. 

He was going to get his own fucking apartment some day. A nice ass apartment, with a room for himself and an actual kitchen and a bathroom that didn’t smell like the armpits of seven other guys. Maybe the bed would be big enough for Makoto, too. And maybe there’d be a dog bed in the corner, for a german shepard with a badge on its collar…

“Fuck,” he hissed, fishing the pamphlet out of his pocket. He glowered at it. “Stop fucking me up, I’ve got enough to deal with as it is.” 

It didn’t respond. Funny enough. 

Groaning, he turned onto his back and pulled his phone out. His fingers acted on their own accord, pulling up a familiar number and punching ‘Call.’ One hand holding the phone to his ear and the other grasping the pamphlet, he glowered at the ceiling. 

Rin picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Rin. Let’s talk.” 

“Well, hello to you, too. Nice to hear from you, Sousuke.” 

“Rin. I’m going crazy.” 

“What else is new?” 

“Wow, you’re so funny. No, seriously. I’ve got a story to tell you. And oh, is it a story.” 

“You sound frustrated.” 

“I am.” 

Rin sighed. “Okay, go ahead.” 

Sousuke promptly launched into an explanation of the events that had taken place the week and a half before. What had happened with Akari and TTO, (Rin asked for an explanation of the nickname and snorted when Sousuke told him,) the conversation they’d had on the park bench, going to the police department, giving statements, being told he would make a good police officer, et cetera, et cetera. The only times he stopped were when someone on Rin’s end interrupted him, possibly the Korean guy Rin was apparently fucking. Rin made him go away quick enough, which was nice. 

When Sousuke was done, he slumped back and huffed. “So basically I’m going a tad crazy now, because I don’t know what to do with this new information.” 

“Shit, man,” Rin laughed. “After all that, and you’re hung up on the part about becoming an officer?” 

Sousuke stared at the ceiling for a beat. “What?” 

“You and Makoto literally saved a chick. You beat a couple of goons up and turned them over to the cops in a matter of an hour. That was probably kinda traumatic, right?” 

“Yes? I don’t know. I’m definitely still bothered about it, and I know Makoto is. That’s kinda one of the reasons I’m so stressed out about the prospect of joining the force. Part of me feels entitled to.” He blinked up at the ceiling in surprise at his own words. Damn, he hadn’t even realized he felt that way. 

“Okay, so you feel entitled,” Rin mused. “But you also want to.” 

“Yeah, more or less.” 

“C’mon, man. You do or you don’t.” 

Sousuke scowled. “Okay, fine. I do.” 

“Okay. So you had a crazy week, and now you’re freaking out because some chick said you’d make a good cop, and you’re not sure what to do with that. Yes?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you think you could make a good cop, too. You want to make a good cop. Yes?” 

Sousuke hesitated, but gave a firm nod. “Yes.” 

“And you’re calling because you needed to rant and also because you want my opinion. Yes?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, just making sure,” Rin said, and Sousuke got the sudden feeling he was talking to a therapist, or something. “So, as your best friend, I’m going to tell you the truth: I think you should leave it.”

Sousuke stopped mid-nod. “Wait. What?” 

“I think you should leave this. Put it on the shelf and come back to it later. It’s too soon after what happened to be making big decisions. You’re still stressed out about all this, and you’re getting it involved with this new curiosity about becoming an officer. I think you should wait until the end of the school year and see if you still feel this way. If you do, great. Go to an academy. Kick ass. You know I’m with you. And I deeply respect your sudden interest, because being a policeman would be hella cool. But I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later, like, say, drop out of college to go to a police academy on a whim. Make sense?” 

“Yeah,” Sousuke sighed. He rubbed at the slight pain in his temple. “I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about it. What if this is what I’m meant to do?” 

“Sousuke, you’re not going to lose anything by giving yourself time to think. Relax. Focus on school. On your boyfriend. On me, maybe. Cause, you know. I’m your best friend, and all.” 

Sousuke snorted. “Alright, I get what you’re saying. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed by the concept of being passionate about something again.” 

“Exactly,” Rin said, and Sousuke could picture him nodding sagely. “I’m all for you having a new dream, but don’t rush into anything. You spent years preparing to be a swimmer. You’ve only been interested in police work for a week. Give it time.” 

“You kinda sound like Haruka, when you talk all calmly like this.” 

“Excuse you, I am always calm. And what the fuck, you’re calling him Haruka now?” 

“Makoto’s forcing interaction,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, that’s a good thing. Go Makoto. And c’mon, Haru isn’t that bad.” 

“He steps on the back of my shoes and drinks my cola when I’m not around.” 

“Ha! Yup, that’s Haru,” Rin said, sounding much too fond for what Sousuke had just told him. “He’ll come around. You know he’s just wary of you because you’re Makoto’s first boyfriend.” 

“It’s been more than half a year since we started dating,” Sousuke grumbled. “And we were friends way before that. You think Haruka would’ve gotten over it and started liking me already.” 

“He probably just likes teasing you.” 

“He’s a dick.” 

“Don’t let Makoto hear you say that,” Rin said, and Sousuke winced. “Seriously though, don’t worry about it. Any of it. Haruka and the police stuff. I’m a firm believer in diving in and working for what you want, but even I’ll admit time is the best solution to this one.” 

Sousuke sighed. “Alright. I begrudgingly accept your advice.” 

“Good. Anything else you need me to sort out for you, or is ‘Wise Grandpa Rin Time’ over?” 

“No, that’s it for now,” Sousuke conceded. He sat up and kicked his shoes off, before crossing his legs. “I’m tired of talking. Your turn to rant.” 

“My turn?” 

“Mm.” 

“Okay, did you know about this whole Kisumi and Haru thing?” Rin demanded. “Makoto decided to casually mention it in an email yesterday. Like it’s no big deal. What the fuck, it’s a huge deal. You guys are all dating each other while I’m gone, and nobody’s telling me about it. I’m still angry.” 

Sousuke smiled fondly. “It’s not like everybody’s main priority after getting involved in a relationship is to tell you. Cut us some slack.” 

“I’m trying, but it’s really hard when it’s Haru and Kisumi. Kisumi, Sousuke. Is that not the most unpredictable thing you’ve ever heard in your life?” 

“It’s surprising,” Sousuke agreed. “But I don’t know, they seem to get along well. Like a house on fire, if you look closely. Haruka’s a weird guy, but he does seem to care a lot about Kisumi.” 

Rin scoffed. “An appropriate simile to use, I’ll give you that.” 

“Seriously. I overheard Makoto and Haruka talking last week. Haruka doesn’t seem like he’s messing around, and I know for a fact Kisumi’s way into him. They could work, I think.”

“I don’t know,” Rin sighed. “I just don’t want anybody breaking each other’s hearts when I’m not around. I can’t afford to take you all on soul-mending Australia trips.” 

Sousuke snorted. “Whatever, man. I could very well say the same for you. You’re kinda in a problematic relationship right now, right? Are we ever going to talk about that?” 

“I was… getting around to calling you,” Rin grumbled. “This thing with Myeong… It’s not exactly problematic, though. Hell, it’s not even a relationship. That’s kinda the issue.” 

“Myeong,” Sousuke echoed. “Is that the Korean guy’s name? The one you’re fucking?” 

“Yeah. But just fucking. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy. We have a lot in common. He’s driven, and talented, and smart, and insanely hot. Holy shit Sousuke, you don’t even know. He’s pretty much everything I thought I wanted in a significant other.” 

“But you’re just fucking him.” 

“Yeah…” 

Sousuke set his jaw. “Does he not like you, or something?” 

“No, no, he does. He likes me a lot. It’s kinda weird.” 

“How so?”

“Everytime I have him over, he asks if this time it’ll mean something more. He does weird things, like tries to kiss me when we’re in public or buys me stuff. It’s obvious he likes me, and I know he’s a really great guy, but…” 

He trailed off, and Sousuke leaned forward. “But what?” 

“I can’t. I can’t date him, Sousuke. I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t like him like that. All I see when I look at him is a good friend and somebody I can hook up with, and I don’t understand why. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but I just can’t.” 

Sousuke felt himself soften at the weakness in Rin’s voice. “So the problem is you don’t see him the way he sees you?” 

“I want to,” Rin admitted. “I want to like him the way he likes me, because he really is a good person. I want to be able to fall in love with him, but for some reason I can’t get past sexual attraction. I can’t even kiss him when we’re not having sex.” He sighed. “I think something’s wrong with me.” 

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Rin.” 

“But he’s literally the definition of what I thought I wanted,” he said, huffing. “I’ve always been sure I was going to grow up, become a professional swimmer, and end up with a guy who respects me and loves me and has every character trait I find attractive. But now that it’s here, now that HE’S here…” 

“Rin, you can’t help not being attracted to someone,” Sousuke said, and he struggled to keep back a puff of fond laughter. “Sometimes that’s just not how it goes. It’s not a matter of what you’re supposed to feel, it’s a matter of what you actually feel.” 

“Makoto said that too. But if not Myeong, then who? Life is serving me this smoking-hot guy on a silver platter, but for some reason I can’t even pick up a fork. If he’s not good enough for me, then who is?” 

Sousuke frowned. “Wait, you’ve talked to Makoto about this?” 

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been emailing about it.” 

“But you didn’t tell me?” 

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I? I would’ve come to you first, but I know Makoto’s been doing a lot of research on LGBTQ stuff recently, and I had some… inquiries. Especially for him.” 

“What does your sexuality have to do with any this?” Sousuke asked, rubbing his temple warily. “Rin, not being attracted to one guy doesn’t make you straight.” 

“No, no, I’m definitely good in that department,” Rin laughed. “But I have… other concerns. Well, not concerns. Just questions.” 

“Like?” 

“Like if I’m aromantic or not.” 

Sousuke sat up and blinked at the opposite wall. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. I know everybody always says I’m the hopeless romantic of the group, or whatever, but since I’ve been dealing with this Myeong thing, I’ve realized I never really had an actual crush on someone before. Sure, there have been people I’ve wanted to shove up against walls and make out with, but actual romantic attraction? I don’t really know. Maybe it’s just because I was always more interested in swimming, or just a hormonal ass when I was a kid, but now there’s nothing in the way. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted, and now Myeong is here, willing to top off that whole dream, and I just… can’t.” 

“Huh.” Sousuke rubbed his jaw absently, his eyebrows furrowing. “Well, okay. That makes sense. But wait, you’ve really never had a crush on someone?” 

“I thought I had one on Haru when we were, like, eleven. But I think that was more infatuation with his swimming than him. I loved him as a friend of course, but I can’t say for sure I actually liked him. It’s hard to tell, when you’re that young and as into swimming as I was. And I thought I had a crush on M…” Rin suddenly trailed off, dragging the ‘m’ awkwardly. 

Sousuke lifted an eyebrow. “Who?” 

“...Makoto,” Rin admitted in a small voice after beat. “Before you moved to Samezuka, and after that relay we did.” 

“Oh.”

“But it turns out it was strictly sexual,” Rin said quickly. “I didn’t want to date him, or anything. Holding his hand and being all sappy with him like he is with you wasn’t all that interesting to me. But there was a brief time when the thought of him pinning me down and-” 

“Okay, I get it,” Sousuke interrupted. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God.” 

“Sorry. Just saying it like it is, man. Your boyfriend is hot.” 

“Thanks,” Sousuke drawled sarcastically. “Okay, anyways. So you think you might be aromantic.” 

“Well, I’m questioning,” Rin said, and Sousuke could imagine his shrug. “Nothing’s set in stone, but all this stuff with Myeong, an actual ken doll, is making me wonder. No matter how much I want to, I just can’t be with him like that, and it’s confusing. But who knows? Maybe it’s just him. Or maybe I’m not aromantic, but just somebody who isn’t interested in dating at the moment… At all.” 

“Well, whatever it is, I’m glad you told me,” Sousuke sighed. “And I’m incredibly pleased to hear you want to have sex with my boyfriend.” 

“Hey, I’m just being honest. And it’s not like he’s unique in that context. All our friends are fucking super models, I wouldn’t exactly say no to any of them. As long as they were single, that is. I’m not a dick.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Wow, you’re hilarious,” Rin said, and Sousuke could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “But seriously. You’re okay with this? If I turn out to be aromantic…” 

Sousuke relaxed, falling back onto the bed. “Of course, Rin. Honestly, the fact you even have to ask makes me feel like a bad friend. I want you to be happy before anything else.” 

“I know. And you know I feel the same way. But it’s definitely nice, hearing you say it.” Rin exhaled, long and shaky, and Sousuke was afraid for a moment he was going to start crying. “I love you, man.” 

“Love you too, Rin.”

“I’m sorry for being lowkey sexually attracted to your boyfriend. But you should probably get comfortable with the fact that you are not the only person who feels that way, because it’s gonna come up sooner or later with somebody else. I guarantee.” 

Sousuke groaned. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it, though.” 

“Well, obviously not. Makoto should get used to it, too. As your best friend, I am comfortable admitting that you’re also very, very hot.” 

“Thanks. You too.” 

“Pshh. Like I don’t already know.” 

\---o0o---

“Makoto!” Kisumi crowed from a ways away where he stood with Haruka, cupping his gloved hands around his mouth dramatically. “Race me!”

Makoto looked up from his notebook and gave an amused snort that turned to mist in the chilly air. “Race you? Why?” 

“I feel like running and I wanna know if I can still beat you! Remember middle school?” 

“Yes, unfortunately,” Makoto laughed. “Why don’t you race Haru?” 

“He’s shit at running,” Kisumi said simply, which earned him a thwack on the shoulder and an icy glare. He flashed Haruka a sweet smile before turning his attention back on the bench where Sousuke and Makoto sat. “C’mon, just from the lamp post to that tree stump.” 

“I’m in the middle of something, Kisumi,” Makoto replied, punctuating his words with a prim adjust of his glasses. “Maybe later?” 

Kisumi pouted. “You’re just scared I’m going to beat you again.” 

“Again? We were in sixth grade. I don’t think last time counts.” 

“Then prove you’ve gotten faster,” he said breezily. He unwound his scarf and held it out for Haruka to take, and Haruka rolled his eyes. “C’mon, scaredy-cat. I dare you.” 

“Scaredy-cat?” Makoto echoed, and a competitive glint that was becoming less and less foreign shone in his eyes. He tucked his pen behind his ear, slid his glasses off, and dropped them in Sousuke’s lap. “I admit to being a scaredy-cat in a lot of other contexts, but I’m not afraid of racing you.” 

Kisumi beamed in triumph. “Prove it.” 

“Fine, I will. From the lamp post to the tree stump?” 

“Mm-hm!” Kisumi skipped over to the post not from the bench, falling into a starting position. Makoto fell in beside him, cupping his knee and leaning the other leg back. “Haruka darling, do you mind calling it?” 

Haruka grunted in response. He shuffled over to Sousuke’s bench and sat on the other end of it, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and his knees pointing together. “Ready. Set. Go.” 

Makoto took off a beat ahead of Kisumi, his sneakers crunching against the asphalt and his scarf streaming out behind him. Kisumi took off after him with an excited sound that could only be described as a caw. The pair of them looked ridiculous, sprinting like their lives depended on it towards a lumpy little tree stump. Sousuke couldn’t help but laugh when Makoto playfully shoved Kisumi’s shoulder as they ran, Kisumi squawking in surprise. 

“Asshole!” he snapped, shoving Makoto back, and Makoto stumbled to the left with a warm laugh that seemed to slice through the crisp chill of the autumn air. Their pace slowed as they focused more and more attention on pushing each other out of their intended path. Makoto fell into a series of giggles at Kisumi’s attempts to shove his broader frame over, and Kisumi cursed freely and angrily, making a couple passerby look in their direction with shocked expressions. Makoto pulled ahead after a particularly hard push, his long legs flashing out beneath him. Kisumi gave an outraged roar and dove for his knees, and the two ended up tumbling to the leaf-littered ground in a mess of limbs narrated by Makoto’s alarmed yelp. 

Sousuke laughed so hard he felt it deep in his stomach. Haruka ducked his face into the collar of his jacket to hide his smirk, his shoulders shaking with suppressed chuckles. 

“Cheater!” Makoto cried. He scrambled on all fours towards the stump, nearly tripping on his scarf like a puppy stumbling over its ears. 

“You started it!” Kisumi snapped, and proceeded to tackle him again. Fallen leaves burst forward as Makoto’s side hit the ground, one sneaker awkwardly pointed to the sky as they struggled like a couple of tousling kittens. No, not kittens. More like baby deer, with their long, gangly limbs and all their scrambling. 

“Dorks,” Haruka said, smiling softly. 

“A couple of losers,” Sousuke agreed. He cupped a hand around his mouth to call out to them. “Get’m, babe!” 

“I’m trying!” Makoto called back, sitting up and pulling Kisumi up with him in a headlock. He laughed triumphantly as he gave Kisumi a furious noogie, and Kisumi shrieked and struggled as if he were about to be beheaded. Leaves and debris were caught in both of the messy strands of their hair. Sousuke thought they looked like a couple of autumn princes, with the brown and orange leaves forming halos around their heads. 

“Okay, okay!” Kisumi cried, wriggling in Makoto’s grip madly. “You win, I surrender!” 

“I warned you,” Makoto said. He smiled big and bright as he released Kisumi, and didn’t falter in the slightest when Kisumi gave him a hard glower as he brushed debris from his hair. 

“You’re the cheater, here. You pushed me first.” 

“Only because I knew you were going to do it to me, too. I could see it in your eyes.” 

“Bullshit! I had no intention of doing such a thing! You are a bad, bad man, Makoto!” 

Makoto fell back laughing, and Kisumi smacked his knee, obviously holding back a fit of giggles himself. He yelped as Makoto pulled him down for a bone-crushing hug. 

“Haruka, help me! I’m being smothered!” 

“Not my fault,” Haruka called back.

“Sousuke, control your boyfriend!” 

“There’s nothing I can do, Kisumi,” Sousuke said, shrugging. “You’re on your own.” 

“Surrender to the hug, Kisumi,” Makoto said, his voice light and breathy with laughter. He held Kisumi’s face against his chest and squeezed, and Kisumi went limp, his only response a tired punch to Makoto’s stomach. 

“Let him go, Makoto,” Haruka called. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the bench rest, the softest of smiles on his thin lips. “He surrenders.” 

Makoto released Kisumi obediently, sitting up with a dopey smile and an entirely new collection of debris caught in his hair. He got to his feet and helped Kisumi up, and the two made their way back to the bench, elbowing each other half-heartedly. 

“You lost,” Haruka hummed to Kisumi, who dropped to sit on the pavement beside him. He reached out to brush leaves from his pink hair. “I’m disappointed.” 

Kisumi groaned and leaned his head against Haruka’s knee. “Makoto is a bad, bad man.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the stump,” Makoto laughed. He plucked his glasses up from Sousuke’s lap and slid them on, before turning on his heel and slumping in the free spot beside him. 

“Remind me to never challenge you to a race,” Sousuke said, picking a leaf delicately from his hair. 

Makoto smiled teasingly. “Are you scared of me, now?” 

“No, I just know now that you fight dirty. I don’t race cheaters.” 

“Fair enough,” he hummed, plopping his head down on Sousuke’s shoulder. Sousuke spat out a sudden mouthful of cinnamon hair, and Makoto chuckled. Their fingers twined between their thighs instinctively. Sousuke rubbed his thumb over Makoto’s, the pad of his finger brushing the stitch line of his fingerless glove. 

“I love this time of year so much,” Makoto said, sighing. “It smells so nice, and the leaves are so pretty, and everybody looks so stylish in their fall attire…” 

“Halloween, too,” Kisumi added. He smiled wide. “Oooh, our first Halloween in university. I’ve heard the parties are wild. Back at my school, at least.” 

Makoto winced. “Halloween. Right.” 

Sousuke leaned away from him to give him a weird look. “What do you have against Halloween?” 

“He scares easily,” Haruka replied, and Makoto wilted. 

“Yeah… Most years I can get away with the fun parts, like taking the twins around the neighborhood, but this year I’ll probably have no choice but to expose myself to less innocent festivities.” 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Kisumi said, twisting to face them and propping an arm on Haruka’s knee. “Back home, I’ve been told that every Halloween the seniors throw this giant slutty-costume party, where everybody has to come dressed like a stripper. Boy, girl, whatever. I’m super excited. I’ve already ordered my slutty angel costume especially for it.” 

Haruka snorted. “Slutty angel costume.” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get pictures,” Kisumi cooed, and Haruka hit him half-heartedly upside the head. 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Sousuke in something like that,” Makoto said. He gave Sousuke a wide, innocent smile. “You’d look good in as a slutty police officer.” 

“Ha.” Sousuke nudged his shoulder. Warmth crept to his face, and he tried his best to ignore it. “I could say the same for you. A uniform would suit you.” 

Haruka gave them both a hard look. “Please stop.” 

“Jealous, Haruka?” Sousuke threw back at him airily. 

“No, I just don’t enjoy any mental image of you wearing anything less than a full beekeeper uniform.” 

Kisumi let out a surprised burst of laughter. “Ouch.” 

Haruka grunted his agreement and got to his feet, ignoring Makoto’s struggle to hold back a smirk and Sousuke’s furious expression. He nudged Kisumi’s boot with the toe of his sneaker. “Let’s go get hot chocolates. It’s too cold.” 

“Okay.” Kisumi bounced to his feet. His arm snaked around Haruka’s to fit his hand in his pocket as they walked away, leaving Makoto to release a delighted laugh and Sousuke to glower dangerously at their backs. 

“Speaking of police officer uniforms,” Makoto said once he’d gotten a hold of himself. He led their joined hands in his lap to absently stroke Sousuke’s knuckles with his other fingers. “Rin mentioned you two talked about that the other day.” 

Sousuke nodded. “Amongst other things.” 

“He told you about how he’s questioning, then.” 

“Yeah.” 

Makoto’s brows pinched. “And… what are your thoughts on that?” 

“Nothing bad,” Sousuke assured him, and Makoto relaxed. “I was definitely surprised. And I honestly am hesitant to believe he’s aromantic, but I admire that he’s willing to explore that part of himself. Before anything else, I want him to be happy and comfortable with who he is.” 

Makoto nodded. “Me too. His determination to be self aware is really admirable.” 

“Yeah. However it turns out, I’m glad he talked to me about it,” Sousuke said, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s nice to know what he’s thinking.” 

“I’m glad he talked to me about it, too,” Makoto agreed. He smiled softly down at their hands. “I miss him a lot. I feel like I was only just getting to know him again, before he left. So it’s really nice to know that he’s willing to confide in me like this.” 

Sousuke sighed. “Me too.” 

“What did he say about the police thing?” 

“He said I should wait,” Sousuke said. He shrugged again. “Talked about how I shouldn’t jump into anything, give myself some time to really consider if this is what I want, that sort of thing. Which is smart. I know I’m interested in police work, but he’s right. I shouldn’t jump the gun.” 

Makoto nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “I agree… To an extent.” 

Sousuke looked up in alarm. “An extent?” 

“I’m just hesitant to tell you to wait, when you’re obviously more interested in police work than you’ve ever been in business,” Makoto admitted. “That’s just me, though.” 

“You think I should just. Do it?” 

“Well, not immediately. Of course I think you should give yourself a little time, but if you’ve found a dream for yourself, I don’t think you should hesitate to follow it.” Makoto offered a pained smile. “I know better than anyone how valuable a dream can be, even at the last minute. My future was up in the air long after I was meant to start applying for schools, but I don’t doubt that coaching is what I want. If you think you could be happy as a police officer, than I really think you should go for it. Waiting too long can only mean distancing yourself from what you want to be.” 

Sousuke blinked at him in surprise. “You really think that?” 

Makoto gave a little nod. “I do.” 

“Wow. That’s, um.” Sousuke let out a puff of laughter. “That’s not what I expected you to say.” 

“Sousuke, I have a nasty habit of letting my self-consciousness hold me back,” Makoto said, smiling softly despite his words. “I know I do. There’s a lot of things I don’t like about myself, and I’ve always made the mistake of letting those insecurities keep me from doing what I want. Holding back can hurt just as much as pushing too hard. So if you want this, then I really think you should trust yourself and work towards it.” 

Sousuke looked down at their hands. “I don’t know if I should trust myself, though.” 

“You should,” Makoto said, laughter in his voice. He rubbed his thumb over Sousuke’s. “You’re very trust worthy, you know.” 

“I’m not so sure about that.” 

“I have a couple other sources who’d beg to differ.” 

Sousuke chuckled softly. He met Makoto’s eyes. “You really think I should do this?” 

Makoto nodded. “If you want this, then I don’t think you should let anything hold you back. I want you to be happy.” 

“What if it turns out I’m not happy doing police work?” 

“That… could turn out to be the case,” Makoto admitted. “But right now is what you should focus on. Right now, do you think it could make you happy?” 

Sousuke hesitated. Yes, he did. “I think so.” 

“What about business? Do you see yourself legitimately enjoying business? Enough to say you’re happy doing it?” 

Sousuke didn’t have to hesitate with that one. He smiled bitterly. “No. It’s okay, and I’m good at it, but I don’t see myself actually liking it any time soon.” 

Makoto shrugged. “I think you should remember that, when you’re making a decision.”

“What about my parents, though? My dad expects me to inherit the company.” 

“It’s your life. If he knows inheriting the company makes you unhappy and forces it anyway, than he can piss off.” Sousuke’s eyebrows shot up, and Makoto winced, his voice going weak. “Well… Maybe not piss off, but you know. Strive to respect and love you like a father should.” 

Sousuke couldn’t help a burst of laughter. “You’re amazing.” 

“You’re amazing,” Makoto insisted, smiling tentatively. He squeezed his hand. “Seriously, though. If you think police work is what you want, then go for it. I’m not exaggerating when I say you could do literally anything you put your mind to, Sousuke.” 

Sousuke looked away, curling his lips in to try and stifle his grin. A flush crept to his ears, and it must’ve been pretty obvious, because Makoto smiled fondly and leaned forward to kiss the heated shell of his ear. 

“I love you,” Sousuke said, turning his face towards Makoto’s, the tips of their pink noses brushing. His heart fluttered. “I love you a whole fucking lot, Makoto.” 

Makoto’s gaze softened. “I love you, too.” 

“Thank you, for saying all of that. And for dealing with my shit.” 

He laughed. “Of course. It’s only right, after you put up with my shit for so long.” 

Sousuke rolled his eyes and bumped their shoulders together, and Makoto bumped him back. They fell silent, and Makoto retracted his hand to reach for his notebook again, smiling to himself. 

“I don’t want this to ever change,” Sousuke confessed, softer than he intended. 

Makoto breathed a chuckle. “Me neither.” 

Sousuke hoped it wouldn’t.


End file.
